


Flying Ahead of the Light

by Namarie



Series: Bloodlines [4]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 01:36:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ressler and Liz navigate the beginnings of Liz's new role, and what this means for their partnership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to my previous stories, “What You Leave Behind, What You Choose To Be” and “With Everything I've Lost”. It also takes place in the same universe as Mack_the_Spoon's “In From The Cold”. It will probably be helpful to read those first. Thanks to Mack for her beta again.  
> The title comes from Dejan Stojanovic's wonderfully intriguing poem, “A Woman in the Garden of Light”, which you can Google if you're interested in reading it.

~~  
May

“You nervous?”

She looked at him, one eyebrow raised. “Did you really just ask me that?”

Ressler smiled and shrugged. “Maybe it's my attempt to distract you from being nervous by stating the obvious, and thereby annoying you.”

At that she snorted. “Well, in that case, nicely done, Ressler,” she said. He could still see the tension in her shoulders, though others might not notice it. If there was one thing Elizabeth Keen had gotten very good at in the past few years, it was keeping her emotions hidden from all but a very few people.

Ressler looked away from the road briefly, checking again to make sure his suit was, if not as immaculate as Reddington's probably was, somewhere close at least. First impressions were key. Sure, it was a cliché, but it was very true in this situation. If he thought about all that was at stake, it was enough to make him lose his composure entirely. And Liz needed him not to freak out on her.

A minute later, Liz told him to take the next right turn. “We should be there in about five minutes,” she informed him.

He nodded as he turned the wheel. “Good to know.” So he had five more minutes to finish mentally preparing himself to willingly enter a house full of dragons and their associates. The fact that it would be Liz attracting most of the attention didn't help him worry less at all. In fact, it made it worse. For the third or fourth time, Ressler purposefully loosened his stranglehold on the steering wheel. They'd had this planned for weeks. Liz would kill him if his overprotective tendencies got in the way now.

“Ressler, you are remembering to breathe, right?” Her tone was gently teasing. “Would it help if we went over the plan for the hundredth time?”

“Not necessary,” he said with a sheepish smile. “It's just, uh, I'm trying to think about all the different kinds of jobs I've done in my life, and comparing them to what I'm about to do. This one's pretty unique, you could say.”

Her answering smile was slightly sad. “You mean, you've never worked as anyone's bodyguard slash escort slash lieutenant slash right hand man slash eye candy before? I'm surprised, with your qualifications.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” he replied.

After a few more directions from Liz, Ressler turned down a long, narrow driveway and was waved through the gates of an absolutely gigantic mansion. The tuxedo-clad parking attendants gestured for him to pull up near the front. The valet would return their SUV when they left for the next event of the day. Ressler handed the key to the valet and hurried around to the passenger's side to open the door for Liz. She took his hand to stand up. Her expression was solemn as she adjusted her black silk wrap over her shoulders and gazed up at the house. Yes, they were about to enter a party, but it wasn't exactly a fun occasion. It was her first official entrance into the world of dragon politics as her own player. There were probably similarities to the way balls and other events like that used to work in the world of the British aristocracy, Ressler thought.

“Well, here goes,” she muttered, catching his eye and slipping her arm through his.

Ressler noted at least a dozen security guards on the premises before they even got to the front door. They were all in dark glasses and obviously armed – not even attempting to blend in. All guests were required to enter the building through a metal detector, and no firearms were allowed – though Ressler was hoping to be allowed to keep the small knife he had brought. It just didn't feel right to go into this kind of place entirely unarmed, even if the stated rules for all attendees included leaving any feuds or disagreements outside.

When it was Ressler's turn to go through the metal detector, the attendant raised his eyebrows as the machine beeped. “Are you carrying anything metal, sir?”

“Just this,” he replied, taking out the small, ornate knife from his inner jacket pocket in a casual and nonthreatening manner. Liz rolled her eyes when she saw it, and the attendant took a closer look.

 _You really didn't need to bring that, Ressler_ , he heard in his head. Ressler looked up at her innocently.

“Fine,” the man said after a moment, handing it back. “It's within the allowed size range. But please keep it to yourself, sir.”

“You got it.” Ressler pocketed it. Then he rejoined Liz where she had been waiting. “Ready?”

She took a deep breath as they turned to the left, where the receiving room was. “Let's go.”

The classical music playing in the background got a little louder, as did the sounds of conversation, as the two of them entered the room through the high, vaulted doorway. More than a few heads turned to look at them, and as expected, most eyes were drawn to Liz in her stunning copper dress. Before anyone else could move toward them, though, Reddington broke away from the small group he had been talking to and came to greet them.

“Lizzie!” He was beaming as he crossed the short distance to take her hands and then look her over. “You look simply ravishing, my dear. I see you found the perfect shade for your dress, and it brings out your eyes marvelously.”

Liz smiled at him. “You don't look too bad yourself, Red,” she said. His waistcoat was a brilliant crimson – naturally – and as usual everything he wore was perfectly tailored.

“And even our Donald cleans up rather nicely, doesn't he?” Reddington said, giving Ressler an appraising look. “Glad to see you were able to find the place, Donald.”

Finding this place had nothing to do with his navigational skills, and Reddington knew it. All he'd had to do was follow Liz's directions. Ressler didn't rise to the man's bait, though, choosing to say instead, “Well, it's quite a place.”

“Raymond,” a slightly accented voice behind Ressler said then, and the three of them turned to see a tall, dark-haired man who had evidently just entered the room, “where have you been hiding this beautiful young woman all this time?”

“Theodore.” Reddington's smile at this newly-arrived dragon was far from sincere. “She hasn't been hiding at all – nor is she mine to display or keep hidden. Elizabeth, this is Theodore Belmondo. He doesn't always take the trouble to travel to these gatherings, so he's a bit out of the loop. Theodore, this is Elizabeth Keen.”

The guy (Ressler would have pegged him to be not much above forty, if he didn't know what he knew about dragon life spans) gave Reddington an odd look. Then he flashed a grin at Liz and raised her hand to his lips. “Charmed to meet you, Elizabeth,” he said.

Ressler fought the urge to suggest Belmondo might want to back off, since it was clear Liz didn't find him charming. But he stayed where he was, while Liz smiled, took her hand back, and said, “Yes, it's so nice to get the chance to meet so many people who I've only just heard about before.”

Belmondo narrowed his eyes, but before anything else could develop, someone else called his name from further into the room. “I look forward to speaking to you more later, Elizabeth,” he said smoothly. He nodded to Reddington and left them, with his two bodyguards right behind him.

“Very few people were disappointed when Theodore didn't show up last year, or the year before that,” Reddington remarked in a low voice. “He may be relatively successful, but he doesn't tend to keep any allies very long. But let me introduce you to someone whose company you should find much less objectionable, Lizzie – there's Eliana Wysocki. You remember what I told you about her?”

The next hour or so passed with Liz either being introduced to those in the room that Reddington thought she ought to meet, or with her greeting those that she already knew. Ressler stayed alert and tried his best to remember everyone's name and what little he could glean about their work and where they were located. A few of the attendees he recognized as wanted by the FBI, for various kinds of criminal activity. He filed that information away for later. He was absolutely forbidden to reveal the location or details of this meeting to anyone who wasn't here, but it still might be useful to know those individuals had been here.

Ressler was just starting to wonder when this portion of the event was going to end (it was honestly pretty boring to be in the background while Liz and Red and the others milled around in this meet-and-greet) when a member of the staff announced that the buffet was ready in the banquet hall. He accompanied Liz from the receiving room into the hall. Reddington and Dembe were somewhere behind them.

“Thank God that's over,” Liz muttered with a sigh. “There's only so much fake smiling I can do at once.”

He chuckled. “PR's not really your thing, is it?”

“Not voluntarily, no,” she replied. Then she looked up at him. “You're going to be okay with how this next part is supposed to go, right? Because the whole bodyguard thing is really just for show here, so you know--”

“I know you'll be fine,” he said with a nod. “Besides, I've got to do my half of the networking thing now, don't I?”

“Yeah.” She looked at him for another second, and then turned her focus toward the open double doors ahead leading to the banquet hall. As soon as they were inside the room, Liz glanced at him one more time, then slipped away to join the rest of her kind on the other side of the huge space. Ressler and the other humans had their own buffet table, with a few chairs and round tables for those who wanted to sit to eat.

He got in line behind a guy he recognized as being one of Leah Weston's men. They nodded to each other. Liz had been honestly pleased to see Leah, and had spent more time in conversation with her than with most of the others. Her guards hadn't been chatty, but since all of them were expected to mostly stay silent during that period of the day anyway, that wasn't a shock.

“So who do you belong to?” said a woman's voice behind him.

Ressler turned around to see the speaker, who was smiling at him in a relaxed way that suggested she'd been to these kinds of things before. He was startled by her resemblance to Meera for a moment, and before he could recover and answer her question, she gestured at his copper-colored tie.

“Right, of course – you're with the new young starlet, Elizabeth Keen,” she answered herself. Her accent was pure Midwest, not at all like Meera's. She put out a hand. “Deborah Shaw. I'm with Brendan Wilson, the older gentleman in the slate gray.” The stripes in her pinstriped business suit were the same gray color.

Ressler shook her hand and introduced himself. “I take it you've been to these events before?”

“Oh, yeah,” she confirmed. “This is my fifth. Or sixth?” She frowned a moment, thinking. “Yeah, sixth, actually. Eventually you lose count.”

“I'll take your word for it,” he said with a rueful smile.

“It's a little bit overwhelming the first time,” she said knowingly. “But don't worry about it. Our bosses eat, chat, get caught up on the latest gossip, decide if their allies are still their allies, and then we all get out of here. Of course, the next event is always more stressful.”

At that, Ressler swallowed. “I figured as much.”

Deborah patted him on the arm. “It'll be all right, Don. It's mostly just them blowing off steam.” As they continued forward in the line, she changed the subject. “So what do you do, when you're not escorting your dragon to important social functions?”

“I'm an FBI agent, actually,” he told her. “I work out of DC.”

“Really? I bet that creates some interesting tensions with this sphere of work.”

He snorted. “'Interesting.' You could say that. Liz-- Elizabeth and I have definitely had fun working out the balance between our job and this whole side of things these past few years.”

Deborah blinked. “Wait – she's an FBI agent, too?”

Ressler nodded. It wasn't a secret from the dragons who knew her at all. And even though Reddington's Blacklist was starting to empty, he still brought at least one or two names to the Bureau on average, every month. Cooper wasn't naïve enough not to notice that there had been something new going on with Liz for a while now. But she did her best not to let it affect her work, so he mostly couldn't complain.

“Wow,” the woman muttered, and shook her head. She picked up a plate, as they finally got to the front of the line. “That's not something I'd ever have predicted, that a dragon from Raymond Reddington's bloodline would work in law enforcement. Crazy.”

Ressler coughed and tried not to stare at Deborah too obviously. It wasn't like he hadn't heard the rumors, or the wild theories, or wondered himself. But this woman who didn't even know Liz at all had just stated this like it was fact.

She met his eye and raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, picking up his own plate and starting to scan the table for what it had to offer.

“She hasn't told you?” Her voice was quieter.

Ressler looked at her for a moment, and then looked away again. “Told me what?”

“It's all in the coloring,” Deborah explained. “There's no way to hide it. If their colors match, or pretty close to it, that means they're related.”

Ressler couldn't help looking over at the other side of the room then. There weren't more than three dozen dragons present, and of them all, only Liz and Reddington were wearing anything that was even close to red. He kept his face impassive, but with some difficulty. She had to have known, for a while at least. And she hadn't told him.

“They're a secretive bunch,” his companion offered after a few seconds. “Don't let it get you down – that's my advice.”

“Thanks,” he said. They were almost at the end of the buffet table by now. He decided it was his turn to change the subject. “So, what do you do for your real-world job, Deborah?”

Ressler talked with Brendan Wilson's guard for several more minutes. Then she excused herself to talk to someone she'd just seen, and Ressler made his way in the general direction of Dembe. The man was sitting at a table by himself, but he didn't seem unhappy to see Ressler.

“Mind if I sit down?” Ressler asked.

“Not at all,” Dembe replied. “How are you enjoying your first real foray into this world, Agent Ressler?”

Ressler pondered this as he ate a bite of some kind of fancy sandwich. “It's been enlightening,” he replied after he swallowed.

Dembe smiled and nodded. “I'm sure.”

The two men ate in silence for some time. Then Ressler couldn't wait any longer. He had to ask. “So how long have you known, anyway?”

“Known what?” His expression gave nothing away.

Ressler's gaze found Liz again. She was talking with the woman who had been imprisoned in the warehouse with her. Stowell, that was the woman's last name. Reddington was not seated next to her or across from her, but he looked her way often. Ressler cleared his throat. “About Reddington and Liz.”

“What about them?” Dembe asked quietly.

Ressler scoffed and stood up, taking his plate with him. “Never mind.”

He was on his way back to the buffet table when the man who had been in front of him in line the first time through stopped him with a quiet, “Agent Ressler? Would you mind speaking with my colleague and me for a moment?”

“Sure,” Ressler said, following the man over to where his colleague was waiting. Both men were dressed in similar types of suits as he was, though their emerald green ties marked them as Leah Weston's men. “What's going on?”

“Leah has a message for you,” said the first man. He smiled briefly. “But first, I guess we should introduce ourselves. I'm Brian Craig.”

“Darren Kingston,” said the other guy. He had the build of a wrestler, and the grip of one, too, when he shook hands.

“I guess you already know who I am,” Ressler said. “But you don't have to call me 'agent'. Don Ressler. What's the message?”

“You shouldn't trust anyone who works for Anna Marie Stowell or her bloodline,” Brian said. His voice was low enough that Ressler had to step closer to hear. “She may be friendly toward Elizabeth, but her nephew has a grudge against Raymond Reddington – and her nephew has convinced her to agree to some aspects of his plan.”

Ressler thought quickly. This nephew had also been among the dragons the Collector had captured. Neither Liz nor Reddington had ever told him about a grudge that this guy held, but that didn't mean this information wasn't good. Plus, as he had noted earlier, Leah certainly seemed like the closest thing to an actual friend that Liz had in this group. “Did Leah tell Liz about this?”

“Yes, but she asked us to make sure you heard the warning, too,” said Darren. “We don't know much more than that, unfortunately. Not even how soon this plan is supposed to be put into action.”

“I appreciate the heads-up, anyway,” Ressler told them. He shook their hands again. It wasn't until they had already left that he realized he'd forgotten to ask them if Reddington knew about this threat.

Stopping by the buffet table to set down his mostly empty plate, Ressler scanned this side of the room for Dembe. He wasn't at the same table he had been before. Ressler thought he saw the familiar tall figure at the opposite end of the room, but he was halted on his way there by yet another person calling out his name.

“Agent Ressler! I was hoping to get a chance to meet you today.”

Biting back his irritation, Ressler turned to look at the latest person here who knew who he was while he knew nothing about them. This time, the speaker was a blonde woman whose unconvincing smile widened at Ressler's regard. “I saw you come in with Elizabeth Keen,” she said, stepping closer to shake his hand. “I'm Colleen Kent. Yes, David Kent's daughter as well as his bodyguard,” she added with a little laugh that set Ressler's teeth on edge. Her outfit (not very practical for a bodyguard) as well as the shade of dark blue that she was wearing looked very good on her, and she clearly knew it. Ressler still wanted to escape from her company as soon as possible.

“I think our respective patrons – or patroness, I should say in your case – are acquainted with each other, aren't they?” Colleen was saying.

“Yeah, you're right,” said Ressler, trying to smile as he kept an eye out for Dembe. “I bet they both wish it was under different circumstances, though.”

She laughed again. “Of course.”

“Listen, I have to--” he started to say, but she interrupted.

“I know it's your first time this year, so feel free to ask me if you have any questions about the way all of this works,” she said. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I've got plenty of experience to draw on.”

It was with profound relief that Ressler saw Dembe out of the corner of his eye. “Uh, thanks. Nice to meet you, but I have to go talk to someone now.”

Before Colleen could protest, Ressler extricated himself and almost ran over to Dembe. Reddington's man was watching him in amusement, but he grew serious when Ressler asked him if he'd heard about David Kent's grudge against Reddington.

“No, I hadn't,” Dembe replied. He glanced toward the other side of the room. “Thank you, Agent Ressler.”

“No problem. Thanks for giving me a good excuse to get away from her,” he said, jerking his head toward Colleen. The woman had found some other victim to corner, but he felt her glance his way more than once.

At that, Dembe chuckled. “She is quite persistent, my friend,” he warned. “You'll have to stay alert.”

“She probably thinks she can manipulate me into giving her whatever information she or her father want about Liz. Or Reddington,” he added as an afterthought. He frowned. “If she's Kent's daughter, does that mean--?”

“She does not have enough dragon heritage to transform,” Dembe answered. “Otherwise she wouldn't be allowed to serve as his guard today.”

Ressler nodded. Liz had told him about what happened when dragon blood got too mixed. She hadn't come right out and said it, but coupled with other things he'd learned, Ressler had gathered that it might not be too long before all of the bloodlines were too mixed to continue on. It was a strange thought, especially to someone who had only recently learned about the existence of this whole world.

There was a pause, and then Dembe spoke again. “About your earlier question: I've known for a number of years. But for Elizabeth, the time has been much shorter.”

Ressler scratched his chin and nodded again. “All right. Good to know. Thanks.” It did help a little to know that this revelation was still pretty new for Liz, but he was still going to need to talk to her after today was over.

The rest of the afternoon passed without incident. When everyone had eaten as much as they wanted, the whole group was invited to go outside and either stay on the (huge, elegant) patio or stroll the lawn. It was late enough in spring that the temperature was pleasant.

The humans were allowed to rejoin the dragons at this point. Ressler made his way to Liz at a measured pace. She was standing at the edge of the patio talking to one of the women Reddington had introduced her to early on, but at Ressler's arrival she excused herself and turned to him. “Hey. How was the food?”

“Fine. A little fancy for my tastes, but I can't really complain. Yours?”

“About the same,” she admitted, and smiled. “The conversation was interesting, though.”

“Same here,” he agreed. “I learned quite a bit.”

Her smile flickered slightly, but she nodded. “Yeah. My problem is going to be keeping track of all of the intricate webs of alliance and intrigue and all of that stuff.”

“Well, since this is what you want, you're going to have to keep track of it all,” Ressler pointed out.

“I know,” she sighed. “I'm just glad we don't have to do this kind of thing every day.”

Ressler wasn't sure exactly what “we” she was referring to, but he agreed with the sentiment, regardless.

It wasn't too much longer before the party began to break up. Ressler would have been happier to escort Liz back down the extravagant front steps of the house if he didn't know what was coming next. At least they would have a short time to rest back at the hotel before this council meeting.

The valet had the car waiting for them by the time the two of them made it to the bottom of the stairs. Ressler thanked the man and opened Liz's door for her. As he went around to get into the driver's side, he noticed that David Kent was exiting the building with his guards. He clenched his jaw, but got into the car. There was no sense hanging around – but he would be watching the rearview mirror closely to make sure they weren't followed.

Ressler was vaguely gratified to find that he could reverse the steps he'd taken to get to the house with little trouble. When he anticipated one of Liz's directions to that affect, she grinned at him. “Don't tell me you still let Red's digs get to you after all this time, Ressler.”

“No,” he said. He looked in the rearview mirror, and was glad to see no signs of pursuit. “Just making sure I was paying good enough attention. That's it.”

“Uh huh.”

Once they had left the party a fair distance behind them, Liz sighed and rested her head against the seat. “So. What was the most important fact you learned today? Or facts, I guess.”

He briefly considered jumping right in with what he had learned about her parentage, but he had already decided that was a topic best saved for after all of today's business was done. So instead he told her about the tip that Brian and Darren had passed along, and his run-in with Colleen almost immediately afterward. Her lips tightened at the news Leah had given, and she confirmed that the woman had told her about this threat, as well. But her concern was replaced by laughter when Ressler described his run-in with Kent's daughter. “Seriously, I don't think I've ever been happier to see Dembe,” he finished.

“Are you sure she wasn't genuinely attracted to you?” Liz asked, when she had stopped laughing at him. “I mean, maybe she just likes to seek out the handsomest guy at the ball.”

Ressler scoffed and smirked. “Very funny. But I'm pretty sure there's almost nothing genuine about this woman.”

“Yeah, I think you're right,” she said. Now she was serious again, her expression distant. “I wish we had some idea of what this threat, this plan David has, might look like.”

“I guess all we can do is stay alert. I know Reddington and Dembe will be on the lookout, too.”

She agreed but didn't look particularly comforted. He knew she was probably thinking about the notable few times that all of Reddington's preparations and safeguards had failed to keep Red himself safe – or her safe. But she did tell him some of the things she had learned about who was allied with who, and whose absence from the event was suspicious.

Once they were back at their hotel, Liz looked at her phone and announced that they had about forty-five minutes before they ought to leave. “I'm going to change, and then try to relax, I guess.”

“Yeah. I'll be at your door in forty-five,” he said.

Inside his room, Ressler took off his tie and jacket, after removing the knife from his pocket. He sat down on the bed heavily. His next role was going to be simultaneously more familiar and much stranger. This time, it was not only permitted for him to carry weapons – it was expected. Multiple types, even. This would be straight protection detail, but without a badge.

After he had gotten his change of clothes ready and laid out all of his weaponry, Ressler sat down in the chair by the window. Now that they had some downtime, it was the perfect opportunity for him to be struck, yet again, by how much his life had changed since the day he had opened the door of that warehouse. He shook his head. If anyone had tried to tell him what was going to happen in the nearly two years after he first witnessed his partner transforming from a huge, copper-colored dragon back into a human woman, he … well, maybe he might have believed at least part of it, given how much his world had already been shaken.

~  
_Flashback_

It was six months after Vandenberg disappeared from FBI custody. Things had gone back to normal as much as possible, considering all the major changes and revelations behind the scenes. Upon their first meeting after Liz had convinced Reddington that he wasn't going to be a threat to their secret, Reddington had given Ressler a significant look and said, “I hope you're ready to do what may be required of you, Donald.” Ressler had wanted more details, but of course the man had just told him that he'd know when he needed to know.

But things had gone on more or less the way they had always gone, after this. Liz had interacted with everyone at the office the same way, and although Ressler observed her interactions with Reddington through a different lens than he had before, they didn't seem to have changed much, either.

The change had started during one drive to talk to the family of a man who had gone missing, believed to be a victim of the latest Blacklister. Liz had given Ressler one-word responses when he spoke to her, though he could not think of any reason for her to be upset today.

Finally, he cleared his throat and looked at her. “So are you going to tell me what's wrong? Because I'd tell you you need to get your head in the game before we get to this guy's house, but I know you know that already.”

She looked away, sighed, and said, “It's that obvious, huh?”

“It really is.” She didn't say anything more, so he insisted, “Come on, Keen. What's going on?”

After a few seconds, she began, “Do you remember when we were on the way back to the office from Vandenberg's warehouse, and I was trying to come up with a way to keep from having to wipe your memory?”

“Not a moment I'm going to forget. Naturally, that is,” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

She acknowledged the remark with a grimace, and went on, “You said something about my 'organization', and I told you I don't have one.”

“Yeah, I remember that, too.” He had known barely anything about dragons at that point, but he had plenty of experience with Reddington's extensive network, some of whom were loyal to him far beyond what he expected of mercenaries or employees. It had only been logical to assume that those who knew that Reddington was actually a dragon were those he trusted, and who were most loyal to him.

Liz stared straight ahead. “Well, it turns out, I need to have one if I want to ever be treated as more than a child in the, the world of dragons,” she said. “I want to be able to use my dragon nature to do good, as cheesy as that sounds. And I'm also tired of being treated like a child.”

Ressler didn't have to be a profiler to guess who in particular she was thinking about, with that last comment. “Okay,” he said. “So what does building an organization like that entail?”

She bit her lip, and then turned toward him. “It's a slow process, but you're generally supposed to start with people you already know and trust.”

It took a second to hit. Then his eyes widened and he stared at her until she broke his gaze and told him sharply to watch the road. He had started to veer into the other lane.

Ressler jerked the wheel just enough to get back into the center of his lane, and took a deep breath. “Wow. Um. Okay,” he said, eyes on the road. His heart was pounding. “So what exactly are you, uh, asking me to do?”

She laughed once, and said, “I'm still working on the job description, actually.” Her voice got quieter. “But I want this to be a partnership, as much as possible, and since you're already my partner...”

“I am.” He couldn't really pinpoint what he was feeling right now – just that it was complicated. “When we have time to talk about this in more depth, I promise I'll be all ears.”

“Okay.” She was smiling now. “Good.”

The rest of the day was far too busy for any further talk on this topic. They ended up discovering that the missing man was not a victim after all, but a recruit, who had evidently shot up in the ranks of Bernard Weiss's hacker group within weeks. From there, it hadn't been too hard to convince the man's wife to try to reach out to him. And when the man had taken the bait, the fate of his leader Weiss was sealed.

But not without any complications, Ressler thought later, sitting next to Samar in the back of an ambulance after half of the headquarters of the group had exploded in a bomb blast. He winced as the EMT pulled another shard of glass out of his arm.

“Sorry, sir,” the man said. “We're almost done here.”

“Good,” said Ressler. He glanced at Samar and gestured to her forehead with his other hand. “Sorry about that bruise.”

“I suppose I can forgive you,” she replied. “Though I would have been fine without your heroics.” In diving to shield her from the explosion, he had driven her to the ground and she had hit her head. The EMTs didn't think it was a concussion, but they had suggested she sit and rest for a while under observation, just to be sure.

“Yeah, sure,” Ressler told Samar. “But don't forget I'm the one having a bunch of glass dug out of my skin, while you just get to lie there.”

Samar rolled her eyes.

Liz, who had entered the building from the other side, had almost entirely avoided the blast. He could see her talking to a police officer from here.

A few seconds later, the EMT told Ressler he was finished. “Try not to do anything too strenuous for at least a day, Agent, or you could open these cuts again.”

“Thanks.”

He thought about jumping down from the back of the ambulance, but decided to accept the guy's help instead. None of the cuts were that deep or that large, but they still stung.

“Ressler,” Liz called, coming over to examine him. “You all right?”

“Yeah, nothing serious,” he said. He showed her the bandages. “Only a couple of stitches out of all of this. And we got Weiss, which is the most important thing.”

“We did,” she said with a smile. “And Samar, you're all right, too?”

“Just fine,” the woman replied. “But your partner has a tendency toward risky behavior, Agent Keen. I would keep an eye on him if I were you.”

“Believe me, I know,” Liz said.

Ressler grumbled about being talked about like he couldn't hear them, but without much force.

At the office, after they were finally finished up with everything in the aftermath of the takedown, Liz found him as he was about to leave. “Hey,” she said. “Uh, if you want, I have-- I have time tonight to talk to you more about that job.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Where?”

“I can pick you up at eight,” she replied, twisting her hands together. “I'm told we have to do this in a specific place, outside the city a little ways.”

Ressler tried to ignore the scenarios his brain immediately called to mind, of various types of initiations that various types of criminal organizations used for new members. This was Liz. Even if she was part of some ancient, secretive race of creatures, she wasn't a gangster. “Do I need to bring anything?” he asked, half-joking.

She shook her head. “Just yourself.”

“All right. I'll see you at eight.”

Once he got home late that evening, Ressler allowed his imagination to run wild about what he was going to hear tonight. He knew much less about dragon politics, or their groups (or hell, daily life) than he would have liked. He was nearly sure that Dembe, for instance, was not a dragon, but Dembe knew Reddington was, and that Liz was, too. Dembe hadn't had the slightest hint of surprise at the warehouse. But Ressler wasn't sure whether Liz was asking him to fill the same kind of position for her, or something else. She'd called it a partnership. With all due respect to Dembe, that wasn't how he would characterize the relationship between him and Reddington. And Ressler didn't think he was interested in that kind of position for himself. If that was what Liz wanted from him, he wondered what would happen if he refused. Ressler sighed and resumed pacing around his apartment. They were both taking a huge risk tonight, that much was clear.

When Liz knocked on his door at eight, Ressler opened it and then raised his eyebrows at the sight of her in a coat with a scarf. It was spring, although the nights could still be cold. “So I take it we're going to be outside for a significant amount of time tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah. Not all of the time, but yeah,” she answered. She seemed tense but not as uncertain as she had earlier today.

“Then I'll get my coat.”

She stopped him before he had done more than start to turn away. “Wait. It turns out I was wrong when I said you didn't need to bring anything.”

“What do you mean?” He turned back toward her, then said, “And you can come in, by the way.”

She did so, and shut the door. “The place we're going is outside of town, so it'll be fairly late by the time we get there,” she explained. “I know this is asking a lot before you even really know what's going on – but in case you do decide to say yes, it might be more convenient if you bring an overnight bag. Because some of this process will work better in daylight, as in tomorrow. So, um, we could just stay there overnight, if you're okay with that.”

He shrugged. “All right, fine. I've got an overnight bag ready. As long as you haven't forgotten to tell me something it might be missing.”

“No, what you have should be fine.”

They were quiet on the way out of the building. Once she started the car, Liz cleared her throat and said, “Okay. Uh, first, you wanted more details. I can give you those while we drive, if that's all right.”

“That's fine,” he said. His heart was pounding again. “Why don't you start with that job description?”

Liz nodded, and began. “First of all, let me get this out of the way: I don't want or expect anything like blind obedience. Like I said, this would be a partnership, as much as possible.” She slowed to a stop at an intersection, then continued, “Apparently I'm going to end up with plenty of people who are basically staff, but you wouldn't be one of them. That said, you probably won't be surprised to hear that there are plenty of dragons who consider all humans inferior, and the way dragon society works doesn't give you much status.”

It was still beyond strange to hear her refer to herself as something other than human. But all he said was, “All right. That does make sense. Keep going.”

“So if you agreed to do this, I'd need you to be available for any occasion in which I'm supposed to be in the dragon public eye,” she went on. “You would essentially be my bodyguard, or at least that's how you'd be seen most often.”

Ressler frowned. “I've got to say, I don't like the fact that you're moving into a-- a career that means you need a bodyguard,” he said.

At that, she raised an eyebrow and said, “I get shot at on the job already, Ressler. So do you.”

“Yeah, but that's different. It's...” He trailed off and shook his head. Something about the idea bothered him, but he couldn't put it into words in a way that didn't sound patronizing. Maybe it was patronizing. “Never mind. Go on.”

Liz gave him a look that suggested she wasn't done talking about his objection, but did so. “Beyond all that, I would rely on your help and advice in setting up my organization. And running it. That's, um, probably most of it.”

He was silent for a while, absorbing all of this. It wasn't too much different than he had expected. It also wasn't anything he couldn't do. It would be weird, and likely dangerous, and he was willing to bet it would be awkward at first. But not impossible.

“So you're not asking me to turn around,” Liz said eventually. Her tone was light but she was watching him as carefully as possible while driving.

“No, I'm not,” he agreed. He noted that they were in fact heading out of the city. “None of that sounded too crazy or too difficult.”

She smiled. “Really? Not too crazy?”

“Not with what I already know, no,” he said. He took a deep breath. “I think--”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she cut in, looking at him apologetically. “Uh, if you agreed to this, we would both have to move. Ideally, we would need to be next-door neighbors. Because of the whole bodyguard thing.”

Ressler thought she might be blushing, though it was hard to tell in this light. He thought of a number of not-very-appropriate comments he could make, but settled on, “Right. I'd be on call twenty-four seven, I guess.” He didn't really like the idea of moving – his current apartment suited his needs just fine – but it didn't have to be a deal breaker, either.

She turned toward him once more. “Still not too crazy?”

“As long as you're not expecting miracles as far as finding the right place any time soon,” he replied.

At that, he was almost certain she blushed.

“What?”

She cleared her throat and gave him a guilty look. “It's possible Reddington might have already made a list of places for us to check out,” she said.

“Of course,” he groaned. “Please tell me he's not insisting on checking them out with us. I don't think I could take his story about how a particular room reminds him of some encounter he had in 2003 with a woman in a hotel in Madrid, or whatever.”

Liz laughed out loud. “Believe me, I'm not letting him choose a place for me or for you, much less come along and offer his opinions,” she assured him. “But since wherever we would end up needs to still be in his territory, I did accept his help to narrow down some options.”

Ressler nodded and then stopped suddenly, staring at her. “Wait. 'Still'? Still in his territory?”

“Uh huh.” But now her gaze was on the road.

He sat back against the seat and scrubbed his hands across his face. How long had he been living on Reddington's turf, and therefore presumably under his protection in some way, without even knowing it? He didn't want to calculate that length of time. Long before the man had seen a reason to save his life, most likely.

“If it makes you feel any better,” said Liz, “I didn't know anything about his or anyone else's territories until after the warehouse. I didn't even know that was a thing, for dragons.”

“And just how extensive is Reddington's territory, anyway?” It was actually strange to think of Raymond Reddington with an area of the world that he considered home. Over all the years that Ressler had tried to hunt him down, that had never seemed to be the case. But now he had a territory. This was information that would have once made a dramatic difference in Ressler's life. He supposed it still might, but not at all in the same way.

“I don't really know,” Liz said with a shrug and a sigh. “He hasn't chosen to tell me that yet.”

Ressler just snorted and looked out the window. They had almost left the city behind by now.

After a pause, Liz asked, “So you're okay with at least moving forward, with the possibility that you're going to say yes?”

He took a few seconds to compose his answer. “I would say it's more of a very strong probability that I'll say yes. But I still want to try to have a better idea of what I'm getting myself into.”

“That's fair.” She sounded pleased.

~


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warning: there is some violence in this chapter, though I don't think it counts as "graphic".

~  
 _The present_

Ressler's eyes snapped open, and he swore as he sat up quickly to check his phone. Then he sighed in relief. There were still twenty minutes before they were set to leave. He hadn't thought he was tired enough to drop off like that, sitting in a chair no less.

He stood up and went into the adjoining bathroom to splash cold water on his face. In the mirror, he saw that there were shadows under his eyes, but they weren't nearly as bad as they could be. Had been, in fact, in the recent past.

Ressler dried his face on the hand towel and walked back out into his room. He supposed he might as well change now, though he was pretty sure the rest of the time would pass very slowly now that he was alert and thinking about what was ahead.

He had just finished getting dressed when there was a knock on his door. “Ressler?” It was Liz.

“Just a sec,” he called. He glanced at the various guns and selection of knives spread out on the bed and shrugged mentally. It wasn't anything she hadn't seen before. In a few steps, he crossed the room and opened the door.

“Hey. Mind if I come in?” She had changed into the dark-colored suit she would be wearing tonight.

He opened the door wider, and she moved around him to make her way inside. He shut and relocked the door behind her, and turned to see her staring at the bedspread. “What?”

“Are you really planning on bringing all of this?” she asked, waving her hand at the arsenal.

“Well, maybe not all of it,” he admitted, “but I like to have a selection.”

She rolled her eyes. “Men are weird.”

Chuckling, Ressler came over and stood next to her. “So what's going on? We still have time before we leave. Didn't want to rest?”

Liz shook her head. Then she surprised him by stepping closer so that they were almost touching. “I'm still not sure I know what I'm doing, Ressler,” she whispered, looking straight ahead.

Ressler didn't reply right away. He had watched Liz and been with her as she evolved rapidly from a rookie agent with high ideals but little know-how to a capable, confident field agent and investigator. He had seen her do her best to handle everything Reddington and her job threw at her. Even as she dealt with the treacherous, lying bastard who had been her husband, and even with his continued reservations about what this long-term close proximity to Reddington was doing to her view of the world, he hadn't seen her demonstrate anything but strength, and hadn't doubted her ability to continue to do so.

“I wish I could offer you some kind of useful reassurance,” he said at last. “I'm even more of a novice at all of this than you are. I don't know exactly what's going to happen tonight, and I don't know if we can use this new position you're angling to get the way you want to use it. But I do know you, Liz. You're smart, and you think on your feet. You've gotten us this far.”

She ducked her head, and then smiled up at him. “You mean, _we've_ gotten us this far,” she corrected him. “We're partners, remember?”

“Well, I'm not sure how much use I've been,” he admitted.

“You mean, besides the times you've saved my life, or Red's?” She looked away then, and her smile faded. “Or all the ways you keep me from getting totally sucked into this world?” She gestured at the weapons on the bed again. “And what do you get in exchange? Your life is in constant danger now, and you have to keep a huge amount of secrets from everyone at work and outside of work.”

“Don't do that,” he said sharply.

She looked up in surprise. “Do what?”

“I asked you to tell me about dragons, even though you told me the risks, and then I said yes to being the first member of your group when you asked.” He held her gaze. “So stop acting like-- I don't know, like you dragged me into a life of crime and danger against my will. You didn't.”

She regarded him for several seconds without speaking, and then nodded and said, “See – just like that, Ressler. You make sure my head's on straight.”

Before he could reply, his phone chimed. It was the alert he had set to warn him that he had ten minutes left before they were supposed to go. “Ten minutes,” he explained.

“Okay. I've got to grab a few things.” She headed for the door.

“Yeah, me too,” he said, pointing at the weapons.

She rolled her eyes again but nodded. After she left, Ressler only needed three of the remaining minutes to make his selections. He was equipped and ready shortly afterward, and then he and Liz were on the way out to the car again. As they were leaving the hotel parking lot, Liz's phone rang. She answered it with, “Red.”

The man on the other end spoke quietly enough that Ressler couldn't hear what he was saying. He couldn't tell much about it by Liz's reactions, either. It was probably just some last-minute advice about the council meeting. Since Reddington was sort of her sponsor in all of this (which, given what he'd learned today, made even more sense), they had gone over the plan for this evening together, several times. Of course, nothing ever went exactly according to plan, even when Reddington made the plan. And given that threat...

Liz didn't say much during the phone call, and when she hung up, she confirmed his guess about what Red had been going over. “He'll be waiting for us when we get there.”

The sky was almost dark by the time they arrived at the location of the meeting. This place, according to Reddington, usually served as the gym for a very ritzy private school. But whenever this particular council met, its stadium-style seating and decent size made it a perfect spot. All the attendees could see each other with relative ease, and the size meant that they could spread out in the space without being forced into close proximity with another dragon that might or might not be trustworthy. Plus, despite belonging to the private school, the property was pretty isolated.

As promised, Reddington was waiting with Dembe when they got out of the car. Without preamble he said, “We need to choose our seats as soon as possible. Location is key.”

Ressler and Liz hurried after Reddington and Dembe. Inside, the lights were on, and there were sounds of muted conversation through the open doors into the gym. There were no guards, Ressler noted, other than each dragon's one allowed personal guard. This confused him at first, especially when he thought back to the party and how many guards there had been on the premises. But then, as he noted the tension in the air, and how their entrance drew what felt like hostile glances, he understood: the distrust between the various dragons who were present was great enough that they probably couldn't even trust anyone to hire neutral personnel.

The gym already had about a dozen people inside. Reddington only paused long enough to scan the many available seats. Then he said quietly, “We'll sit in this section. Lizzie, if you and Donald will please sit in front of Dembe and me.”

Again without waiting for a reply, the man headed up the nearest stairs and sat down in the middle of the section, in the middle of the row. As of yet there was no one else in the section except for one man who Ressler didn't recognize, at the very top. Ressler had no problem following Reddington's directions and sitting in the next row; whatever else he might think of the guy, he knew Reddington would always seek to keep Liz safe, which meant he and Dembe would watch their backs.

As soon as they were seated (Ressler to Liz's right), Reddington leaned down and said, “Remember, Lizzie: there will be a call to order of sorts, then some announcements for the whole group. Then the chairman will open the floor, and that's when you need to be ready.”

Liz nodded. Her hands were clenched together in her lap, but she appeared calm otherwise as she watched the others enter the gym.

_Ressler_ , he heard then. He glanced at her, but she wasn't making eye contact. _There's something you should know before this gets started. About Reddington and me._

“I heard already,” he whispered, wishing as ever that he could reply in the same way. He knew Reddington would probably overhear him. “Learned it at the party.”

At that, she looked at him. _You know that we're--_

“From the same bloodline?” he said in an undertone. “Yeah.”

She sighed. _We'll talk some more after this. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier._

“Me, too,” he muttered. He guessed it counted for something that she was going to tell him right now, even though that also would have meant springing it on him when he had no opportunity to react. He looked away and made another scan of the room. The flow of dragons entering the gym had slowed almost to a stop.

The doors to the gym were shut a few minutes later, and a man Ressler recognized from the party walked out into the middle of the floor, holding a wireless microphone. “I believe everyone is here,” he said. “We'll begin now.”

The announcements didn't mean much to Ressler. The location for the next year's gathering was given, as well as the chairman for the next council meeting. Neither name was familiar. Then there were some updates on the health of some other unfamiliar names, and one more familiar: Albert Reinhardt. The old man was there, in the gym, sitting in a wheelchair across the floor from them. He raised a hand to acknowledge the scattered applause from his fellow dragons, as the chairman stated that this was Reinhardt's first council in nearly a decade.

“Well, I'll be,” murmured Reddington from behind them. “Well done, Albert.”

After that, it was only a few minutes before the chairman opened the floor for other topics. Ressler almost flinched when Reddington stood up in the silence that followed. Here it came.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began. “Many of you have already met Elizabeth Keen earlier today. She will be needing her own territory in the near future, and so as her father, I, Raymond Reddington, hereby state that I will offer a portion of mine as the beginning of what she will make her own, according to our laws and customs.”

As Liz stood, Ressler kept his eyes and ears open to the reaction to Reddington's declaration. There were some others around them that looked pleased, some looked faintly interested, and others that looked discontent or downright angry. Ressler found David Kent on the other side of the auditorium. Unsurprisingly, he appeared furious.

Meanwhile, Liz had spoken the response that was the traditional confirmation: “I, Elizabeth Keen, hereby state my intention to establish myself in a territory of my own, according to our laws and customs.”

Her voice rang out, confident and clear, in the large space of the gym. Ressler waited, holding his breath, and in a second the chairman as well as almost all the other dragons in the room responded in chorus, “So witnessed.”

Liz and Reddington remained standing as the chairman then said, “Is there anything further that needs to be said on this matter? If so, please speak now.”

A woman (Ressler thought it might be Eliana Wysocki, the woman Reddington had introduced Liz to early on at the party) stood up and said, “As the holder of one territory bordering on yours, Raymond, and therefore yours, Elizabeth, I remind all present that there can be no growth without change, and no change without disruption. This matter affects us all. That said, I have no wish to assume or demonstrate any ill will toward or from either of you.” She nodded to them.

“Any territorial expansion will of course affect us all, as Eliana says,” Reddington said, nodding in return. “But it need not require a great deal of disruption.”

“What are you saying, Raymond?” someone else called. Ressler turned to the corner of the room, behind him and to his right. Another man had gotten to his feet. “Because wars generally cause plenty of disruption, in my experience.”

“I'm not looking to start any wars,” Liz said, firmly. “I'm not looking to push anyone aside, either. I only ask to be allowed to establish myself, like I said.”

The chairman stepped in before anyone else could speak. “I think we've heard all the major issues surrounding this matter,” he said, clearing his throat. “Obviously it isn't resolved yet, but this isn't the forum to discuss every possible consequence, and so forth. I suggest that we consider this closed for now, and move on. Any objections?”

There was some grumbling from the assembled dragons, but no one objected. The chairman asked for other topics, and Ressler let out a sigh as Liz sat back down next to him. “That seemed to go well,” he whispered to her.

_As well as it could have_ , she agreed. She sat back against the back of her chair. _Now we just have to stay awake for the rest of this thing._

That turned out to be a good summary of how the rest of the night went. Ressler did his best to stay alert and pay attention to what was going on, since he knew he needed to know as much as possible about the workings of dragon society – but it was difficult when so much of this was, as Deborah had described it, just a bunch of people complaining about things that other people had done that they didn't like, or similar topics. Nothing much seemed to be settled. Finally, just as Ressler was about to start mentally reciting the names of all the US presidents in desperation, the chairman declared the meeting adjourned. “Thank God,” Ressler muttered as he stood up.

“Some other exciting plans for the rest of the evening, Donald?” asked Reddington mildly.

“Sleeping in my own bed sounds nice,” Ressler answered. He started down the stairs, with Liz right behind him.

Reddington agreed, but added, “Just don't go to sleep yet. The night's not over until it's over.”

But Ressler was fully aware of this. He already had his eyes on the rest of the small crowd and was maneuvering himself and Liz through them in the quickest, most direct route with the least amount of time to come into contact with the others as possible. He stayed hyper-vigilant until they were at their car, and Liz had said goodnight to Reddington and Dembe. And then he didn't breathe easily until they were on the road back to DC.

“Good work tonight,” he said then, glancing in the rearview mirror and then at Liz in the passenger's seat. “I think you made the right kind of impression.”

“Thanks,” she said with a small smile. “And you did, too.”

It was not a quick drive back into the city, but they made it without incident. Ressler parked and then walked with Liz to the front of the apartment building. He was about to open the door for her when she stopped. “Damn. I left my change of clothes in the car.”

“I'll go back and get it,” he said. “You don't have to wait around – I'll bring it by in a couple of minutes.”

“You sure?” she said. “It's not that urgent, I could just--”

“No, I think I left mine, too, actually. I guess we're both a little tired.” He smiled, and she nodded with a yawn.

“Okay. See you in a couple of minutes, then.”

Ressler waited until she'd gotten inside and locked the door behind her. Then he headed back down the stairs to the car. They'd done well today, he reflected with a yawn of his own, but God, he was tired.

As he reached into his pocket for the car keys, there was a tiny sound behind him. He turned around – just in time to see a dark figure reaching toward him. He was holding something, a cloth that smelled of chemicals. Ressler went for the knife at his belt at the same time as he dodged and kicked out at the guy, sending him crashing into the side of the car.

There were more masked figures coming out of the shadows. Before they closed in, he took advantage of the second of breathing room to throw the knife at his first assailant. It struck him just below the collarbone, and the guy yelled and slid to the ground. Meanwhile, Ressler went for his gun, but the next guy was already on him. He grabbed Ressler's wrist and twisted until Ressler was forced to drop the weapon. Swearing, Ressler got in one good punch with his other hand, before two others seized his arms from behind.

Ressler continued to struggle, and made satisfying contact with his assailants more than once. The guy he'd punched in the face looked like maybe his nose was broken. But then one of the men socked Ressler in the stomach. He gasped and tried to recover his breath. That was when the chemical-soaked rag was shoved in his face again, and everything went dark.

Ressler was brought rudely back to consciousness by a shock of cold water to the face. He coughed and choked, and realized he was swaying back and forth. As awareness returned fully, he found himself strung up by his arms in some dark, dank underground room with a single fluorescent light in the middle of the ceiling. His shoes barely brushed the ground. There was a man standing right in front of him, holding an empty water bottle. “Mr. Ressler,” he smirked, tossing the bottle aside. “Glad you could join us.”

“That's Special Agent Ressler to you, pal,” Ressler spat. “Who the hell are you?”

Still smirking, the man replied, “My name isn't important. All you need to know is that my friends and I are just the warm-up act. You'll be meeting our boss soon enough.”

“And that would be...?” Ressler had a sneaking suspicion he knew the answer, but he wanted it confirmed. If it was who he thought it was, he needed to make preparations.

“Someone who has a problem with Reddington, and doesn't think too highly of the pawn he's claimed as his daughter, either,” was the man's response. “And since she has you in her claws, he thought you might be a good way to send a message – as well as learn a few things.”

Ressler took a deep breath. This was probably David Kent, then, as he had suspected. And this was exactly the kind of situation both Liz and Reddington had warned him about, way back at the beginning. But they had taught him what to do to resist, too.

“Francisco, Thompson,” the man called over his shoulder, “we're ready here.”

The next several minutes (it was hard to tell how long) were pretty bad. Kent's men, if that was in fact who they were, knew how to use their fists and other blunt instruments to cause the maximum amount of pain to a prisoner in Ressler's position. It was all but impossible to concentrate on remembering and even reliving an occasion from his past, so that when the dragon arrived to pry into his mind, he hopefully would have a lot of difficulty getting in. By the time they were done, Ressler's arms were screaming in pain from carrying his weight at this angle. He was bleeding from multiple cuts on his face, and his left eye was swollen shut. Every panting breath was agony; he was sure at least a few of his ribs were fractured. Slumped with his chin nearly to his chest, Ressler could see drops of his blood gathering under him on the floor. He had to remember...

Ressler barely heard the footsteps approach. He did hear the lead torturer say, “He's ready for you, sir.”

“Excellent. Raise his head.”

Ressler was pulled up roughly by his hair. He grimaced and met David Kent's gaze out of his one functioning eye.

“What-- Chase, did I not make it clear that he needed to be able to see out of both eyes?” Kent said sharply. He frowned. “You know eye contact is important for this, don't you?”

Chase took a sharp breath from behind Ressler. “Shit. Uh, sorry, sir. That wasn't intentional. We-- we could try to--”

“Never mind, there's no time to waste on your apologies or half-assed solutions,” Kent interrupted. “At least you left me with one eye to work with.” He stepped closer.

Instantly, Ressler shut his right eye and tried desperately to call to mind the day he had picked to immerse himself in. It had been almost summer... He had never been to this part of Maryland before, but it was beautiful...

“Donald.” The voice was powerful and compelling. Ressler flinched. “Donald, open your eye for me.”

He needed to keep his eyes shut. Ressler knew this, but as the voice continued to encourage him to open them, he found he couldn't remember why. But he was supposed to be thinking about something else, anyway. Yes. That day, in the field outside of the city. It had been a warm, bright day...

“I need you to look at me, Donald,” the voice said. “This will all be so much easier if you look at me.”

Ressler almost didn't realize when his eye drifted open. He saw the smiling, satisfied face of a man in front of him, and then all of the pain from the various injuries on his body faded.

This wasn't right, he thought suddenly. The voice was asking him questions, and he could feel someone in his mind, going through his memories. He needed to stop this. He needed to think … about something else...

~

They walked about a quarter mile from the farmhouse. The heat of the sun was almost summery and just at the edge of being uncomfortable; Ressler was glad Liz had suggested he bring a water bottle. He was also glad not to be wearing a suit and tie. Liz seemed to be enjoying the sun quite a bit – but he guessed that made sense.

“Okay,” she said finally, stopping and looking around. “I think this is as good a place as any.”

Ressler stopped and took a drink. “All right. I guess I'm as ready as I'm going to be.”

She smiled wryly. “I was just going to say the same thing, actually.” Then she walked several yards away from him, turned to face him, and transformed.

He had tried to prepare himself for this. He had thought back countless times to the brief glimpse he had gotten of Liz in her dragon form in the cage in the warehouse. But now he was staring, open-mouthed, at the huge, brilliantly-colored dragon gleaming in the sunlight. His mind had trouble reconciling what he was seeing with the woman who had been standing there just a moment ago. The transformation process itself had only taken seconds.

_You can feel free to close your mouth any time, Ressler_ , came her voice in his head, sounding amused and a little uncomfortable.

“Right. Sorry.” He shut his jaw, but couldn't stop staring at her. He thought maybe there should be some instinctive fear reaction going on, since he was pretty sure Liz in this form could kill him with almost no effort. He looked at her talons. Each one was at least as long and sharp as a large kitchen knife. But despite this, all he felt was wonder.

The memory was interrupted then by a sharp stab of pain in Ressler's head. He cried out, and for a moment he was hanging from chains hooked to the ceiling, in a dark basement room. He felt a burst of anger, from someone else. Then he was back in the field, watching Liz soar through the air toward the top of the hill. He was pretty sure he had never seen anything more beautiful.

There was another stab, another spike of agony in his head. He screamed again. “Stop resisting, you idiot, and this won't have to hurt!” he heard someone say in frustration.

But now he was watching Liz come in for a landing on top of the hill. He took an involuntary step back when another dragon, even bigger than her, came into view from behind the hill and landed next to her. This dragon was a brilliant crimson. He turned to look at Ressler right after he folded his wings, and said, _Well, Lizzie, Donald seems to be taking it decently. No fainting spells, at any rate._

He took a few steps closer, willing himself not to appear unsteady after that comment. Liz had told him Reddington would still be around, but not that he would show up like this. He should have guessed, though. When had Reddington ever passed up an opportunity to mess with him, after all?

Another burst of pain. Now it was like he had skipped ahead a few scenes in his memory. Liz was still transformed, and he was standing right next to her head. Reddington was watching from behind her. _It's to protect you, from other dragons who might want to use what you know against Red or me_ , she was saying. _It'll be like a mental block that no one can get past._

“And you can do that to me – for me – without erasing any memories or anything?” It was hard to fathom the fact that he was talking to his partner, currently a dragon, about how she could create a block in his mind to protect any valuable information he had about her from other dragons.

_Yes._ She didn't hesitate.

“What about a way to keep other dragons from doing that hypnosis thing you did to me once?” Ressler asked. “I'm guessing that's harder to deal with.”

She sighed – a much louder, longer process with her lungs the size they were right now. _You're right. I could try to make a shield for you, like dragons have naturally, but I'm worried that it would cause damage._

Ressler ran his hands through his hair and paced away a few steps. “Then I'd be a security risk to you,” he said. “Hell, I might not even know if I was-- tampered with. I can't take that risk.”

_There's a third option_ , Reddington put in then. _It still carries some risk, but if you succeed, it also allows you to maintain control of your own mind for as long as you have strength to fight._

“Tell me,” he said, looking first at Reddington and then at Liz.

Another spike of pain, this one stronger than the others. His voice was getting hoarse. The memory flickered, and he felt a brief sensation of triumph, but he hung on doggedly. His hold was slipping. There was a flash of his backyard, from the house where he grew up. No. That wasn't where he was supposed to be right now. Neither was he supposed to be in the Box, slowly bleeding to death from a gunshot wound to the leg, while Reddington did his best to save his life. And now he was holding Audrey in his arms while the light faded from her eyes. He gritted his teeth and focused, even though his head was pounding.

_You have to hold on to the memory, as tightly as you can, and recreate all the details that you can_ , Liz was saying. _It has to be like you're reliving it. If you're experiencing it all over again, your mind will be so occupied with that memory that you can keep anyone else from accessing anything beyond that._ She regarded him out of her large, copper-colored eyes. _Do you think you can do that, Ressler?_

“Well, I mean, I've never tried it before, but...” It wasn't entirely dissimilar from the ways he had been taught to withstand more prosaic types of mental torture. “I'm willing to give it a try if that's what I need to do to move forward.”

_Then you need to think of what memory you want to use, and hold onto it, no matter what._ Her voice changed in quality, somehow, but it was still Liz speaking. The memory started to get blurry as she urged, _Ressler, hold on._

The pressure in his head lessened a few degrees. Ressler was once again dimly aware of his surroundings. The voice that had been cajoling and tormenting him said, “She's on her way here. She knows where he is. Start getting ready to leave.”

“Hold onto it,” Ressler mumbled, only half understanding the significance of what the voice had just said. He had to hold on.

_That's right, Ressler. Hold on. Just for a little while longer, okay?_

The pain returned. He scrambled to maintain the memory of that day in the field. What had happened next? It hurt so much to think. The man's voice told him it was all right if he stopped fighting. He could relax now. No one would blame him.

No. Not long after Liz had told him about the importance of the memory he chose … she had transformed back into her human form, and Reddington had followed a minute later. And then... Then what?

There was a loud, sharp sound from nearby, jerking Ressler out of the memory entirely. He knew that sound, but he couldn't think what it was. He couldn't think anymore at all. Thankfully, whatever it was had caused the pressure in his head to stop, too. He heard shouts, and curses, and then the sound again. A gun? Maybe that was it. There was no one holding his head up anymore, and no one speaking to him. He sighed and shut his one good eye, slumping forward.

“Ressler!”

The world was going gray around the edges when he forced his eye open again. He tried to speak, and coughed instead.

“Oh, thank God.” Her voice shook. She came into his limited field of vision and gave him a smile even as her lips trembled. “We're getting you out of here now, Ressler.”

“Good,” he rasped, and then took the opportunity to pass out.

~  
He felt incredibly comfortable and at peace when he started to wake up. It didn't take him that long to realize he was in a hospital, but strangely the peaceful feeling didn't dissipate when he came to this conclusion. He wasn't in pain, and he wasn't under attack. That was enough to let him fall back to sleep again without even trying to return to full consciousness.

Some time later, he became aware of quiet conversation nearby. This time, although he still felt heavy with sleep, he decided to try to wake up – at least for a little while.

It took him longer than he'd expected. By the time he succeeded in opening his eyes – or rather, one eye – the conversation had long since since stopped. But there was someone in the room. When his vision focused, he saw Reddington sitting in the chair next to his bed.

“Donald,” the man said, with a wide smile, “how are you feeling?”

Ressler blinked and took stock. “I'm not feeling much of anything, actually,” he said hoarsely. He made a feeble attempt to move his arms, and grimaced at the stiffness and the dull ache this awoke. “Or I wasn't.” There was an IV line in the back of his left hand. There were also red marks on his wrists where the cuffs had dug into his skin.

“That's likely the painkillers,” Reddington explained. “They've had you on a carefully monitored dose of a non-opioid analgesic ever since you were admitted.”

Ressler nodded, but he felt a prickle of unease. It had been a long time since he last touched a prescription painkiller of any kind. And now this. But he didn't feel like he had when he was on the pills...

“The doctors are aware of your history of dependence,” said Reddington, without a hint of judgment. “It's being factored into your pain management.”

So Reddington knew. Of course he did. Whether or not Liz had told him, it was the kind of information the man would have ways of finding out. He changed the subject. “What was the damage?”

“Three cracked ribs, a badly bruised left eye with an accompanying abrasion on the cornea as well as a hairline fracture to the eye socket, plenty of other serious bruises and cuts, and what the doctor called the strangest concussion he had ever seen. Of course, he hasn't dealt with a lot of people who withstood nearly an hour of sustained draconic interrogation.” Reddington stood up, picked up the cup of water on the table next to Ressler's bed, and handed it to him. “You'll want to sit up carefully before you drink. I almost forgot to mention that both of your shoulders were nearly wrenched out of their sockets, so your arms will be sore for a good long while, too.”

Ressler felt the truth of this, even just reaching for the control to raise the head of the bed slightly. But he was glad to be able to drink several mouthfuls of water, and grateful to Reddington who took the cup back silently and replaced it on the table. “Do they know if the damage to my eye is permanent?” he asked after several more seconds. He tried not to worry too much about the fact that the wrong answer to that question could end both his FBI field career and his work with Liz.

“The doctor expects you to heal completely with no lasting effects,” said Reddington with another smile. “Donald, you've done yourself proud. You've done Lizzie proud, too, although she's also been worrying about you pretty much constantly since she realized what had happened. And not that either she or I needed the proof, but you've certainly proved your loyalty several times over.”

He hadn't done it for Reddington, as he was sure the man knew. But he supposed, since Liz was his daughter... That line of thought brought something to mind that made Ressler sit up, and then wince at the resulting headache. “Reddington, it was David Kent. His men, and then Kent himself--”

Holding up a hand, Reddington said, “We know. Please don't overextend yourself, Donald. You'll set back your recovery. It's being taken care of.”

Ressler sighed and closed his eyes. He could guess that however the issue was being dealt with, it fell outside the bounds of the law. This bothered him, even as he understood and accepted the reasons for it. He wondered how the attack and his capture had been explained to the police – assuming they had.

“I know you're tired and would probably like nothing more than to slip back into slumber,” Reddington said then, “but I encourage you to stay awake just a little longer.” He cocked his head. “I was just about to tell you Lizzie was on her way back, but here she is now.”

Liz's eyes were wide and she was beaming as she came into the room. “Ressler! You're awake!”

Ressler returned the smile. “Hey. Yeah, for the moment.”

“I'm going to step out and speak with Dembe,” Reddington said. “Lizzie, perhaps you can answer a few of Donald's remaining questions. Donald, you made it through.”

Liz sat down in the chair Reddington had occupied, scooting it closer so she could put her hand over his. “How are you feeling?”

“Stiff, sore, but not too awful,” Ressler replied. She looked tired, he thought. “I've felt worse, waking up in the hospital, that's for sure.”

She nodded. “I'm so sorry, Ressler,” she sighed. “This shouldn't have happened.”

“We knew something was in the works,” he reminded her. He had been afraid, when the attack started, that Kent's people were going to go after Liz after they got through him. At least that hadn't been the case.

“But to kidnap you and torture you, from right in the middle of Red's territory! And mine, I guess.” Her eyes flashed. “We didn't expect something so flagrant, and apparently we should have.”

Ressler made a noncommittal sound. Then he turned toward the window, which had the blinds pulled to block most of the daylight. “What time is it, anyway? How long have I been here?”

“It's almost three in the afternoon,” she told him. “You've been here since the ambulance brought you here at a little after one in the morning. We found you in that basement about an hour and a half after you were grabbed in front of the apartment building.”

“I'm guessing they took me somewhere not in your territory before they went to work on me,” he said. From his experience in law enforcement and in the past few years, he had a feeling that kidnapping and torturing a rival's lieutenant on their own land would be tantamount to a declaration of war.

“Yeah. That's why it took us so long to find you.” She swallowed and repeated, “God, Ressler, I'm so sorry.”

“It's not your fault,” he said. She probably wasn't going to believe him, but he would keep telling her, anyway. At least he could try to take the focus off that and get some more answers. “So what does all this mean, for you and Reddington and Kent?”

“Well, Kent didn't kill you, and apparently wasn't intending to kill you,” Liz said, rubbing her hands across her face. “If he had, that would have been a signal that he's looking for war. But Red says, since he was obviously trying to see if he could turn you as well as just see what reaction he would get from us by taking you, that's a different story.”

Ressler raised the eyebrow that didn't cause his entire face to hurt. “Okay. So what reaction did it get from you?” There had been a time when he would have just said he didn't want to know, but that wasn't going to cut it at this point. Plus, it wasn't really true.

Her expression hardened. “You could call it a proportional response,” she said. “Not all of Kent's people got out of the building before we arrived. We made sure the ones that didn't served as a message to their boss. That's why I stepped out for a few minutes, to hear a report on how all that is going.”

That was about what he expected. He assumed this message to Kent didn't involve killing them all, based on what she had already told him – which was good. He didn't want to be the cause of a war. “But Kent wasn't there when you got there?”

“Unfortunately not,” said Liz. “I wouldn't have minded the chance to have a few words with him. But I will be speaking with his aunt as soon as possible.”

“Sounds good.” From what he knew, the woman was much more reasonable than her nephew, and had nothing against Liz at least. “Oh, uh – what does Cooper know about all of this?”

“He knows you were kidnapped outside our apartment building. He's been in to see you actually. I told him that we suspect those responsible have ties to David Kent,” she said. “It wasn't too difficult to imply that Kent might have something against Reddington, and that he would know you work with him at the FBI.”

Ressler took this in. It had enough of the truth in it to pass inspection at first glance, at least. “And he wasn't upset about the fact that you didn't involve the FBI to find me?”

Liz smiled wryly. “No, he was. I think he would have yelled at me a lot more if we hadn't been standing outside your hospital room, with you asleep inside, at the time I explained, though.”

Ressler could imagine that with no trouble. “Strategic, on your part,” he said. He tried and failed to hold back a yawn. “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize, Ressler,” Liz said with a smile. “You need your rest. You've more than earned it.”

“I'll remind you you said that later,” he said, reaching for the control to lower the head of the bed again, “when I'm hobbling around at work and making you do everything for me.”

She shook her head and laughed. “Sure, because you're definitely going to even be able go to work any time soon.”

He smiled faintly. “We'll see,” he murmured, already mostly asleep.

~  
 _Flashback_

“So where exactly are we going? And can I ask what we're going to be doing, or is that a secret?”

Liz glanced at him again. “We're almost there. It's-- it's an old farmhouse, near the edge of Red's territory. And no, it's not a secret.”

“Okay...” He waited.

She turned right, down a narrow gravel lane. Ressler told himself again not to start imagining scenes from horror movies. “It's actually not going to take very long tonight, if I understand correctly,” she told him. “But there'll be more tomorrow, like I said. Um, there's a kind of traditional thing that we're supposed to do as the first step.”

“Just as long as it doesn't involve blood oaths or ritual sacrifice,” Ressler muttered, shifting in his seat. “Or tattoos.”

Liz's jaw dropped, and she looked like she was trying to stifle laughter even as she sounded scandalized. “Donald Ressler! Just what kind of operation do you think I'm trying to put together?”

“Well, what am I supposed to think?” he shot back with a grin, just the tiniest bit relieved. “Here we are, out in the middle of nowhere, at night, and you tell me we're here to fulfill some kind of mysterious tradition.”

“You're right. You got me,” she said, with an almost straight face. “But don't worry: from what I hear, it should only hurt a little bit.”

“Gee, thanks,” he said, rolling his eyes as she laughed at him.

They got to the end of the gravel road, and Liz parked the car in front of the house. Reddington's car was already there. “Seriously, though, Ressler, it's just going to be me saying a few things that apparently have a long tradition behind them, and then you say a few things as well,” she said. “With Reddington and Dembe there as witnesses.”

“So I have to decide now,” he said.

“Yes – but if you change your mind, you can still back out, no problem,” she replied. She turned off the car. Her casual tone didn't fool him.

“Hey.” She looked up at him, her hand on the door handle. “I've been thinking it over this whole time, Liz,” he told her. “I could have told you to stop and take me back home any time, you know. I didn't.”

“Okay,” she said, with a smile. “Good.”

He hesitated for just a second. Then he picked up the overnight bag before he got out of the car to follow her. Unless something in what Liz wanted him to say in this pledge, or whatever it was, was a whole lot weirder than it sounded like it would be (which at this point he didn't think was going to happen), he was going to do this.

Liz looked gratified when she saw the bag over his shoulder. “We can drop off our stuff first.” She was carrying a bag as well as she walked toward the front porch of the farmhouse.

Liz knocked on the door.

“Come in,” came Reddington's voice. “Dembe would open the door for you, but he's otherwise engaged at the moment.”

Liz opened the door, and she and Ressler went inside. It was a nice enough place, brightly decorated though old-fashioned. Reddington was sitting on the couch in the front room, in front of the fireplace. He smiled at them both, and his gaze went to the canvas bag at Ressler's shoulder. “Donald, I see you're prepared to stick around for more than a few hours,” he said. “Is this an indication of your decision about Lizzie's request?”

Ressler nodded. “Yeah, it is.” He sounded confident, he thought, which was good because he also felt confident. Mostly.

The man's smiled widened and he stood up. “Well, in that case, after you two have dropped off your belongings, we can get started.”

Dembe entered the room then, and nodded to the two new arrivals. “I'll show you where your rooms are,” he said.

Ressler was glad to find nothing at all objectionable about the room Dembe showed him. It was small but nicely furnished, although he and Liz would be sharing the bathroom down the hall.

As he was leaving his room, he almost ran into Liz. “You ready?” she asked. She was carrying her coat over one arm, and holding a piece of paper in the other.

Ressler hadn't bothered to take off his coat. “I guess so,” he said. “So now what?”

“Now,” said Reddington, coming into view at the other end of the hallway, “we go outside, to the backyard. Lizzie will ask you a question, and you will answer according to the words she has written down on that piece of paper – if you agree, that is. Then if you do, she'll respond. Dembe and I will be witnesses. It's as simple as that. For tonight, at least.”

Though he had the strong feeling it wasn't as simple as that, Ressler walked with Liz out the back door. There was a veranda in the back, but she didn't stop until they were on the grass. The lanterns at the edge of the veranda were bright enough to read by, thankfully.

Dembe and Reddington took up positions behind Liz, who unfolded the paper in her hands. She cleared her throat, met Ressler's eyes for a second, and then looked down at the paper. “All right.” Her hands were shaking just slightly. “Donald Ressler, do you pledge of your own free will to join my organization as the first of my lieutenants, and in that capacity will you act as my representative when called upon, provide protection for me and for my interests to the best of your ability, and above all...” She stopped for a moment, and took a sharp breath. “And above all remain loyal to me throughout your entire life?”

It was Ressler's turn to breathe in. He and Reddington were both right: this pledge was simple in that it wasn't hard to understand – but that definitely didn't mean it was an easy thing. It wasn't an easy thing for Liz to ask him for, either, based on the emotions in her eyes as she held the paper out for him to look at his response. As he took the paper, he felt a strange urge to kneel, but he shook it off. This wasn't medieval Europe. He read through the short response, noting that Liz's part was labeled “Dragon” while his was “Prospective Member/Adherent”.

Dismissing his curiosity for now as to the history of this document, Ressler looked up and said clearly, “I do so pledge, of my own free will.”

When she took the paper back, Liz was smiling, though she kept her expression properly grave as she delivered the requisite reply: “Then I, Elizabeth Keen, do hereby formally accept your pledge and declare that you are a member of my organization and my lieutenant, with all the responsibilities and privileges that this position carries with it.”

“So witnessed,” Reddington and Dembe chorused, and then they both grinned and stepped forward to congratulate the two of them. Dembe shook Ressler's hand and then Liz's, while Reddington slapped him on the back before giving Liz a hug.

“Nicely done, the both of you,” Reddington announced. “Let's get inside out of the chill, and we can toast the occasion more properly. The house is well-stocked with champagne, as well as many other delightful beverages.”

Ressler met Liz's eye. He had not anticipated getting drunk with his partner, Raymond Reddington, and Dembe tonight, but if this kind of thing was traditional as well, he supposed he could be convinced.

~


	3. Chapter 3

~  
July (The present)

It was two months after the attack outside the apartment. Ressler had long since recovered, and Liz had made her displeasure known to Anna Marie in such strong terms that her nephew was out of favor with the family matriarch. Ressler wasn't sure how long this type of punishment would last, but at least the threat to Liz seemed to have been taken care of.

Meanwhile, Liz had made more strides toward establishing her own organization. Ressler managed not to be jealous when she brought in more members; it was, after all, a necessary step. Besides, many of the newcomers were brought in for their specific areas of expertise – and none of them were Liz's partner.

This morning, Ressler was accompanying Liz to look at a piece of commercial property that was for sale. It was not in her or Reddington's territory, but it was adjacent – which meant that Ressler had had to confer with another dragon's lieutenant to arrange this visit. Thankfully, this dragon didn't show any signs of paranoia about this being Liz's first step in taking over his territory. In fact, the man Ressler had been interacting with, Jeff Warner, told him that his boss was eager to enter into negotiations with Miss Keen, if she decided the property was what she wanted.

“So you haven't really gone into detail,” Ressler commented, as they drove. “What kind of business are you looking to get into, anyway?”

“I want to start with a nonprofit, actually,” she told him. “I want to focus on combating human trafficking in all its forms.”

“A worthy cause,” he said. Not that she needed his approval in any way, of course. “Is that what you want to use this place for?”

She nodded. “If it turns out to be a good fit, then yes.”

Warner was waiting for them out in front of the old office building. He shook Ressler's hand first, and then waited to be introduced to Liz before he shook her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Keen,” he said.

“Please, call me Elizabeth,” she replied with a smile.

The tour was uneventful. Ressler could tell that Liz had made her decision about halfway through, but she continued to listen politely to Warner until he was done with his sales pitch. They were back outside the building now, standing on the thin strip of lawn in front of it. “So, after you've seen it all, what do you think?”

“I think I'm interested in setting up a meeting with Henry,” Liz replied. “Please let him know, and he can contact me to start arranging it.”

“Excellent! We'll be in touch.” Warner shook both of their hands again. “Feel free to hang around the property for a while if you want, although Henry does ask that you not linger in other areas of his territory.”

Liz smiled again and said, “We understand. Thank you.”

Warner said his farewells and then headed off to his car. Ressler watched him go, and then said, “You're going to buy it, then?”

“I think so,” she said. She turned to look at the building behind them. “It's not very impressive now, but it has potential.”

Ressler opened his mouth, but then stopped himself.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if Reddington is funding all of this – until you get everything up and running of course,” he said. He wasn't her money manager, which was just fine with him. But he still wasn't totally sure what kinds of things he was supposed to know, and what he was just supposed to leave up to her.

Liz shook her head. “Not in this case,” she said, looking down at her hands. “My-- my adoptive dad left me some money, and I've invested it.”

“Okay.” Ressler cursed inwardly. He hadn't intended to bring up painful memories for her.

“But of course the money probably came from Red originally, anyway,” she continued, and turned to look up at the office building again. “So you're not wrong.”

Ressler bit his tongue to keep from making any comments. He and Liz had talked some more about the revelation that she was Reddington's daughter, the day after he had been released from the hospital. She had told him that Reddington had been forced to stay away from her for her own safety, but she hadn't volunteered many details. Privately, Ressler wondered how many details her biological father had even given her, but he hadn't pressed. The things she had told him made it sound like Reddington hadn't even known about her for the first few years of her life. That made sense of some of the more confusing parts of the bio Ressler and his team had drawn up on the man once upon a time.

After that conversation, Ressler understood that part of the reason Liz hadn't told him about this any sooner was because she was still trying to deal with it herself. Ressler could only begin to imagine what she was feeling. It wasn't hard to fathom that she would want to try to process it herself first. What was harder for him to understand was how she could seemingly forgive Reddington for all the shit he'd put her through – his own daughter. And yet everything he saw showed them to be closer than ever.

“Well, I guess we shouldn't linger,” Liz said then, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“Yeah.” Ressler walked with her back to the car. She had just reached for the handle when she froze for an instant, and then looked around with wide eyes. “What? What's going on, Liz?”

She looked – not exactly scared, but definitely unsettled. “I-- I'm not sure,” she said in a low voice. “But I think we should get out of here.”

Ressler glanced around for himself, and saw nothing out of the ordinary. But he trusted her instincts. “All right. Let's go.”

He drove back the way they had come, trying not to go faster than the speed limit. Liz was relieved when they left Henry's territory, but she still didn't look calm. In fact, they hadn't gone much further when she stiffened and asked him to pull over. “It's like we're being watched,” she told him, “but it's different than that somehow. I can't describe it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So this is some kind of dragon thing, then,” he said.

She gave him a helpless shrug. “I guess so. You can't feel it?”

“Nope.” He unbuckled his seatbelt. “But I can do a quick scan of the area, see if I can find any hint as to what we're dealing with.”

“Ressler--” She stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I'm supposed to guard you, aren't I?” he pointed out. “I can't really do that if we don't have any idea of what's going on.”

“Well, hold on a minute, then,” she insisted, unbuckling her own seatbelt. “If this is a dragon thing, I'm not just going to sit in the car while you go out there. You can't protect me from something you're not able to find.”

Sighing, he hurried around to her side of the car. She had a point, even if he didn't like it. They were pretty exposed here; they had pulled over by an empty lot and across the street from an antique store that appeared to be closed. In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd almost think--

A gasp from Liz made him turn toward her, and then toward the vacant lot where she was staring open-mouthed. There was a dragon there. It was huge – bigger than the only two dragons Ressler had seen before. It seemed too big for the space it was in, almost pressing up against the sides of the two buildings on either side of the lot. It was brilliant gold, and it was looking right at them both.

Liz grabbed onto his arm without moving her gaze from the dragon. _Who are you? What the hell do you want?_

 _Peace, little sister_ , came the dragon's response. He sounded amused. _I am not an enemy to you._

Ressler winced and barely restrained himself from putting his hands to his ears futilely. The telepathic voice of this dragon was-- maybe louder wasn't the correct term, but it was much more intense than Liz's or Reddington's, or even David Kent's. He didn't get the feeling this dragon was trying to hurt him, though.

 _Then what are you doing here? This isn't your territory._ Liz's grip on his arm didn't lessen.

The dragon laughed, and the sound was even louder than his telepathic speaking voice. Ressler winced again and put his free hand to his head. _I'm not interested in your territory, little sister_ , the dragon was saying. _I came to find one of my brethren, and I happened across you. And your human_ , he added, looking directly at Ressler. Ressler found himself unable to look away from the huge, golden eyes, even as he felt a headache building. _He appears to be in some discomfort_ , the dragon remarked.

Liz released Ressler's arm. He could feel that she was looking at him, but he still couldn't look away from the male dragon that was only about two yards away from them. He was shaking, he realized, and he couldn't seem to stop. He wasn't even sure if it was from fear or something else.

“Ressler? Are you okay?”

Ressler swallowed. “I … don't know,” he managed to tell her. It was difficult to speak for some reason. “Head hurts.”

 _You're hurting him!_ Liz said angrily.

The dragon blinked. _I do apologize._ His voice was quieter now. _I did not intend to cause any harm. I suppose I have forgotten the effects I tend to have on humans._

The headache started to fade. Ressler sighed in relief. He still wished fervently that he had an idea of what was really going on here, but at least he could try to think now.

 _Little sister_ , the dragon continued, _I would like to speak with you further, but not in this place, where other humans might wander in at any time. Will you follow me?_

“Oh my God,” she whispered. _Follow you where?_

_To my eyrie. You may bring your human if you wish, though he must not be allowed to share the location of my home with other humans._

Ressler still hadn't been able to drag his eyes away from the golden dragon. He was trying his best to follow this, but this was not like anything else he had experienced in the dragon world. Unless... Unless that was because this was a pureblood dragon. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” Liz said quietly. She sounded amazed and terrified. “Um, Ressler, I don't know what will happen to you if you come with us. I can't ask you to do that, to put yourself--”

“Liz, If you're going with this guy, I'm coming, too,” Ressler cut in. He wished he could stop trembling, but maybe it was that instinctive response he'd avoided before. At least words were coming more easily now. “I realize I'm … not exactly in a position to protect you against him, but that doesn't mean I can't at least back you up.”

She was silent for a few seconds. “Fine. But how exactly do you plan to come with us? I'm guessing he and I will be flying.”

 _He's not too heavy to carry, I think, and we needn't fly at a high enough altitude to cause him any respiratory distress_ , the dragon offered.

As Ressler tried and failed to picture this mode of travel, Liz replied, _You might be right, but how do you plan for us to get out of here without attracting attention? Everywhere around here is a populated area. There will be people watching--_

 _I will get us out of here the same way I got here myself_ , the dragon said calmly. _I can shield us both from human eyes – and even the eyes of our kind, for the most part._

 _Huh. That sounds like a useful skill_ , Liz commented. She took a deep breath. _Okay. Fine. Ressler, you're going to need to step back._

Before Ressler had to admit he wasn't sure he could move, the golden dragon swung his head away, and it was like a chain between them broke. Ressler staggered a few steps, and then quickly moved away from Liz, scanning the street around them as he did so. There was no one else visible.

In the next second, Liz had transformed into her dragon shape. She was maybe half the size of the golden dragon, Ressler noted. But she was still plenty big enough that he felt absolutely tiny and extremely vulnerable as he walked between the two dragons. He kept his focus on Liz, though he felt the other dragon's gaze on him. At least he wasn't shaking now. “All right. So, uh, what's the plan?”

Liz shuffled her front feet. _Well, unfortunately I don't think we have time to see if, um, dragon riding is a good idea or not_ , she said. _But I promise I won't drop you._

Ressler swallowed again, then rubbed his hand across his face. “I was afraid you were going to say something like that,” he muttered. “I guess it's a good thing I'm not scared of heights. Or air travel.”

The other dragon laughed again, but not as loudly as before. _Your human is courageous and loyal, little sister. But you are correct that we can't wait here any longer._

Before either of the two of them could react, the golden dragon launched himself into the air. The downbeat of his wings sent a rush of wind over them. A second later, Ressler stifled a cry of shock when the creature seemed to disappear before his eyes.

 _Okay, uh, this is going to be awkward_ , Liz said. She looked at him, and he imagined she might be blushing if she were human at the moment. _Can you, ah, come a little closer to my right--?_ He moved so that she could reach for him easily with what would have been her right hand. _Yeah. That's good. Try not to move._

Ressler squinted against another rush of air from dragon wings as Liz pushed off from the ground and became airborne. She started toward him right away, then backed off again. She gained a little more altitude. He heard her muttering something about how awkward this was, and then he had to fight against every instinct in him to stand still when she swooped toward him. He shut his eyes. A second later, he felt smooth, solid talons encircling him around his arms and torso – and then he was lifted off the ground.

He kept his eyes shut despite the pit in his stomach at the sudden rise into the air. Liz's grip was secure but not too tight. He opened his eyes to find himself staring down at the rapidly receding earth. Wind was whistling past him, and he was glad he had been wearing a long-sleeved shirt at least.

_You okay, Ressler? Am I squeezing you?_

“No,” he said, trying to make the thought as clear as possible since it was probably going to be hard for her to hear him over the wind. He relaxed as much as he could. It wasn't easy. “I'm, uh, okay. A little chilly, but I'll live. Can you see him?” He couldn't really look straight ahead for long, since the air rushing past made his eyes water.

 _Yeah._ She paused. _I hope he's doing that hiding-from-sight trick for me like he said. Otherwise we're going to be in a lot of trouble._

Ressler thought about what the average person would do if they looked up and saw a huge winged reptile flying over their house. Statistically they were traveling over a lot of gun owners. “Yeah, I hope so, too.”

A few minutes later, as Ressler noticed the terrain below them start to become more rugged and less populated, he heard Liz give a humorless laugh.

“What?”

 _I'm just wondering how long it'll take for Red to wonder where I am, and then follow us_ , she answered. _I think that's going to be an interesting meeting._

Ressler had to agree. Even Reddington had most likely never been in a situation like this. “You could contact him now,” he suggested. “Tell him what's going on.”

She didn't answer right away. _I think I'll wait until we get to this guy's … eyrie, first._

They kept going for quite some time. The terrain beneath them was no longer at all familiar to Ressler by the time he thought that they were almost there. He wondered if he and Liz would be able to convince this dragon that he didn't need to have his memories wiped, since he honestly was sure he wouldn't be able to direct anyone to this place even if he wanted to.

As they started to slow in speed as well as climb a little higher into the air, Ressler caught a glimpse of the golden dragon in front of them. He landed lightly and gracefully on a jut of rock on the side of a tall hill. Then he went into a large cave and turned around, looking out at them expectantly.

Ressler discovered that he didn't enjoy the sensation of being unable to prepare himself physically in any way as the ground got closer and closer. He tensed, though he was fully aware he was at the mercy of the dragon who was carrying him.

As it turned out, though, their landing was almost totally painless. Liz warned him she would be releasing him as soon as she landed and would need him to get out of the way quickly so she could recover her balance. Then she landed on three legs, stumbled a little, and opened her claws. Ressler landed fairly gently on the stone floor at the entrance of the cavern, then hurried to pick himself up and back away to the wall. She had spread her wings again to help herself regain her balance, but as soon as she had done so, she folded them. Ressler and she both took a few seconds to steady their breathing and adjust to the relative dimness of the cave. _Are you all right?_ she asked, peering at him in concern.

“I'm fine,” he assured her. He ran his hands through his hair in a mostly useless attempt to return it to a non-windblown state. There probably wasn't a hair gel strong enough to hold up to being flown through the air by a dragon. “I can't say that's my new favorite mode of transportation, but, uh, thanks.”

She chuckled. _Well, it's usually you who does all the driving, so I guess this is me repaying you for that._

“Uh huh.”

_If you're both sufficiently recovered from the journey, may we begin?_

Ressler caught himself just in time and didn't turn to face the other dragon directly. He had no wish to be utterly helpless again, if he could stop it from happening. Instead, he turned so he could see the dragon without looking into his eyes.

Liz took another step into the cave. Somehow it was fairly warm inside, Ressler noted, even though the sun was not shining directly into it at the moment. _All right_ , she said. _Maybe we can start with introductions._

 _Certainly. I am Lanneth, of the line of Trath_ , the dragon said with a nod of his head.

 _My name is Elizabeth Keen_ , Liz said. _And, um, you should probably know that my father is on his way here at the moment. He can introduce himself._

Ressler snorted. No matter how bizarre and unexpected this situation was, he was sure that when Reddington showed up, he would be the picture of confidence.

Lanneth didn't seem upset by this last piece of news. _Welcome to my eyrie, Elizabeth Keen. Your father will be welcome, as well, provided he isn't under the impression that I mean you any harm. And your human seems to have survived the trip well._

Liz met Ressler's eyes. She must have noticed that he was purposefully not looking at Lanneth. He shrugged and, still avoiding the dragon's gaze, said, “Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking.”

 _I'll take this opportunity to clarify something: he has a name, too, and he doesn't belong to me_ , Liz said. _I don't own anyone._

Lanneth didn't sound convinced, but he said, _As you say, little sister. Now, if we could get down to business?_ A trace of impatience could be heard in his tone then, and just for a second it was loud enough to hurt again.

 _What is it you want to talk about?_ Liz asked. The end of her tail twitched. _I'm guessing you already know this, but we-- I don't know anyone who's seen a pureblood dragon in their lifetime, much less spoken to one._

 _Yes, I thought as much_ , Lanneth said. He sighed. _There are so few of us left. One of my purposes for venturing out into the human cities was simply to see if I could discover how many of our descendants still retained their draconic natures. Your numbers appear to be shrinking, as well._

At this, Ressler could see the tension increase in her. She drew back, in preparation for he wasn't sure what, but his hand moved to the gun that was still in his holster. _Yes, that's true_ , she said in a dangerous tone, _but I can tell you,_ brother, _I'm not interested in any personal efforts to repopulate the species. So if that's why you invited me to come here..._

The gold dragon's eyes widened and he hissed. _Surely you can't think that I would-- but I can see you do. I am sorry to discover that such a thing has ever been threatened against you, and I assure you that was not in my thoughts at all when I found you, Elizabeth._ He looked at Ressler once more, and back at Liz. _This evil must be a consequence of association and mixing with human society. It would never have occurred in the days of your ancestors._ The way he said the word 'human' made it almost a curse.

 _Well, that 'mixing', as you call it, is how I exist_ , Liz pointed out. Some of the tension had left her posture, but she still sounded angry. _I was pretty sure, if it weren't for humanity, our species would have died out entirely a long time ago. That's what I was told, anyway._

Lanneth rustled his wings. _That cannot be denied_ , he admitted. _For far too long we were too obsessed with feuds and battles for control of particular territories to pay attention to how our numbers were falling and how the human population was exploding. By the time we really noticed, it was too late to reverse the trend._

Liz was quiet for a few minutes. Ressler thought it must be even stranger for her to hear this than it was for him. To know that you were related, however distantly, to a race of ancient, powerful creatures that had once been dominant on earth but were now relegated to myth... He shook his head.

 _Lanneth, can I ask_ , she said, _is this your home? Did you … grow up here?_

The dragon was amused as he said, _No. I have only been in this eyrie for the last four months. This is not a climate our kind would choose to spend their lives in – and certainly not if we ever planned to raise hatchlings. It's far too cold._

 _Oh._ Liz sounded stunned by this information. Ressler had to admit that he was, as well. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that there would be _hatching_ involved in dragon families. But of course they were reptiles. It made sense. It was just utterly weird to think about, from a human perspective. The strangeness as well as the rest of Lanneth's comment reminded him of that night when Liz had been rendered basically comatose by the chill of a heavy winter's snow, because of her draconic heritage.

 _I have a lot more questions for you. There are so many things I-- we don't know_ , Liz said. She ducked her head. _I know you invited me to come here so you could ask me questions, but maybe we can learn from each other?_

Lanneth blinked slowly. _There is plenty of time for us each to both ask and answer each other_ , Elizabeth, he replied. _I see no reason this needs to be one-sided._

Liz looked pleased. Ressler, on the other hand, frowned and leaned back against the cave wall. This all seemed too easy. He was willing to bet that the other dragon was hiding something – or at very least, that he wasn't planning to be as forthcoming with his information as he sounded.

 _But if I may begin, I would like to ask how many of your kind you're aware of_ , Lanneth continued. Anticipating her objection, he added, _I am alone in my attempt to learn more of the current status of our species. You needn't fear that a horde of pureblood dragons will descend on your home and take over as soon as we know your number._

If Lanneth could sense or 'overhear' Ressler's suspicion of his motives, he didn't react. Liz, on the other hand, glanced at him and said privately, _I can't sense any other dragons nearby, Ressler. Obviously I can't be sure, but I don't think he's lying about why he wants to know._ Then she answered Lanneth with, _I'm probably not the best person to ask, since I'm still pretty new to dragon society. But I know of fewer than forty of us._

Lanneth accepted this answer without much of an outward reaction. In return, he answered Liz's question about how many living pureblood dragons he knew about. To his knowledge, there were only nineteen left, scattered around the world. _It's possible that there are others of us, staying well hidden_ , he allowed. _We are, after all, not naturally very social creatures._

Ressler thought of the atmosphere of tension and distrust at the council meeting. That trait definitely seemed to have been passed on to mixed-blood dragons.

The brief lull in the conversation that followed this exchange was interrupted when both Liz and Lanneth turned toward the entrance of the cave. A familiar red dragon was approaching, and although he wasn't flying faster than usual as far as Ressler could tell, there was a touch of agitation in his voice when he said, _I very much hope there's room for one more dragon here, because I don't intend to turn around and leave._

Liz moved a little closer to the wall where Ressler was standing. _You should be fine, Red_ , she said.

Lanneth agreed, and added, _Welcome, brother. I am Lanneth of the line of Trath. You have a remarkable daughter._

Reddington came in for a landing and half-folded his wings before he replied. _It's an honor and a surprise to meet you, Lanneth of the line of Trath. I'm Raymond Reddington, and yes, I do._

He entered the cavern on Liz's left side, purposefully spreading his right wing over Liz as he did so. Ressler scoffed and was about to make a comment directed to Liz when he noticed the faint lines on Reddington's wing: scars. More than one of them. Like someone had--

Reddington furled his wing and looked over Liz at Ressler. _Donald_ , he said, in a tone of mild surprise. _I almost didn't see you there. How was your flight?_

 _Okay, enough with the damn posturing already!_ Liz said loudly, before Ressler could reply. She turned to level a glare at Reddington and took another step away from him. _So we're all here now. How about we do some talking? Learn from each other, maybe, like we were trying to do before you got here?_

It was hard to fight the urge to flatten himself against the wall of the cave, Ressler noticed. When Liz had moved aside to allow Reddington room, she had as a consequence gotten closer to him, and now she was even closer. A part of his brain was having significant trouble dealing with being in such close proximity to not one but three gigantic predators – especially since one of them was a totally unknown variable. It was almost like claustrophobia, except he wasn't normally claustrophobic. He tried to breathe normally.

 _Oh, is that what we're doing?_ Reddington asked, turning back toward Lanneth. _A free exchange of information? Excellent._

Lanneth couldn't miss the edge to Reddington's tone, and he replied in tones of affront. _Whether you choose to believe me does not change the truth of my statement_ , he said with a glare. _I wish to learn about the current welfare of our kind. I have no hidden motives._

 _Very well then_ , said Reddington. _Ask away._

But Lanneth wasn't going to let this go so easily. _However, if you're going to be so suspicious and uncooperative_ , he said coldly, _I can simply search the human's mind for what he knows. Based on how you treat him, he must be important to you and therefore aware of much of your business._

Ressler's heart started to pound. He took a step back and pulled his gun out of its holster. “Whoa, whoa. There's no way in hell we're doing that again,” he said, preparing to raise the weapon. Maybe he didn't have enough ammo to kill a full-grown dragon, but he'd damn well do his best to take him down.

It was Liz's turn to hiss. _So we're moving on to threats now? Even if we let you attack Ressler, which we're not going to, that would be the end of any chance of goodwill between us and you. Which would be a shame, don't you think?_

All three of the dragons stared at each other, clearly ready to strike at any moment. Ressler was pretty sure he would need to get out of the cave as quickly as possible if they actually did start fighting; as much as he wanted to protect Liz, it was far more likely he'd end up getting trampled to death in this situation.

But after a few more intolerably tense seconds, Lanneth relaxed his posture and sighed. _Very well. I did not intend for this to escalate to outright hostility. For that, I apologize._

 _And I'm sorry you were offended by my suspicion, Lanneth_ , Reddington said. _If you genuinely are only interested in information for information's sake, then you are an even rarer creature than I thought. In any society of which I'm aware, information is power. Therefore, seeking to gain it is almost never a neutral act._

Lanneth sighed again. _Of course you are correct, Raymond. I believe that the knowledge I want will be of interest to the others who are left, in turn._

 _I see_ , said Reddington with a nod. _And what will they give you for it? What is valuable currency these days among the last of the pureblood dragons?_

As he reholstered his gun, Ressler snorted. Speaking of valuable information, that would be something that Reddington would want to know. Just in case he ever ran into any other purebloods of his kind, he'd want to have that up his sleeve.

 _Respect_ , replied Lanneth. _Esteem. Status. What else?_

The rest of this strange meeting was mostly tension-free. Lanneth asked his questions, and either Reddington or Liz answered. In exchange, Lanneth gave them answers to their own questions, although Ressler was sure he was still holding back in some cases. Which was only fair, since neither Red nor Liz gave every detail they could when they answered, either.

Ressler learned a lot from sitting and listening – to both the unfamiliar dragon and the ones he had known for several years. He was sure there were a few times that Liz and maybe even Reddington wished he weren't there to overhear. But since Lanneth never kept his questions or answers private (maybe because he didn't think Ressler rated as important enough to hide anything from), Ressler supposed it would have been awkward for either of the other two to respond in a way that kept him from hearing.

One of these moments came when Lanneth asked, _Do you find it easy to remain in your human forms for long stretches of time, or does it cause any problems or discomfort for you?_

Liz traded glances with Reddington. _It does cause discomfort_ , she said. _I mean, you get used to it over time, but it's still a constant feeling of being compressed into a space that's too small for what it holds._

 _That sensation in turn makes it more difficult to sleep soundly_ , Reddington added, _since the occasions in which we are able to sleep in our true forms are very rare._

 _That must be frustrating, to deal with a sensation like you describe nearly all the time_ , Lanneth remarked. _To be unable to relax for so much of your lives._

Ressler had to agree. He'd had no idea. And as for Reddington describing their dragon forms as their “true forms”... He did his best not to show or project his reaction to that. He had always sort of assumed (though he had never asked her or said it to himself) that Liz saw herself as essentially human, although she could transform into a dragon and although she had abilities that other humans didn't. But maybe that wasn't true. Maybe it was the complete opposite of the truth.

 _Like I said, you do get used to it_ , Liz said. _It was a hell of a shock at first, though._

The other uncomfortable moment came when Ressler was a spectator while Liz and Reddington gave a brief explanation of the protocol for how dragons protect their human lieutenants from attacks by other dragons. Of course Liz had explained all of this to Ressler and asked his permission before giving him the protections she was now describing, but it was still weird to hear her telling Lanneth about it.

 _Interesting_ , said Lanneth, when Liz had told him about the mental block that protected Ressler from being forced to reveal certain secrets that an enemy might try to steal. He looked at Ressler for a second, who was continuing to do his best not to meet the dragon's eyes. _But he still does not have a full mental shield, as we do, and I can surmise that to create one would carry its own risks for his mind. Does that not still leave him vulnerable?_

“'He' is right here, you know,” Ressler said, not quite under his breath.

Liz shot him an apologetic look. At her insistence, Ressler joined the conversation at this point, giving an overview of the techniques he had been taught to keep dragons from interfering with his mind. He didn't bother to share details, but did say that he knew from experience that these techniques were effective.

 _Really?_ was Lanneth's response. _How clever._ He sounded like someone complimenting a friend's particularly well-trained dog. Ressler gritted his teeth.

 _There's another element of the protections we've put into place_ , Reddington said, smoothly making sure the conversation didn't get sidetracked. _In Lizzie's and my case, since our organizations will frequently be interacting with each other although not all members would have reason to be familiar with each other, we needed to make sure there's a way for them to identify one another._

It took a moment for Ressler to recall what Reddington was talking about. He had only been in the position of using this safeguard once. As far as he knew. Reddington had explained the system to him this way: if a lieutenant of his or of Liz's ran across someone and had reason to be suspicious about their intentions or purpose, they could ask for proof that the suspicious person worked for the other dragon in question. That demand for proof would trigger a specific response in the person being questioned, and then the questioner would reply in a specific way. After that, both participants would forget the substance of these statements immediately until the next time they were necessary. If either side failed to give the correct countersign, the other would know there was reason to take them down.

The description Reddington gave to Lanneth of all this was, once again, extremely brief and without many details. The other dragon now knew it had to do with a pre-programmed sign and countersign.

 _Very tidy_ , Lanneth said, his gaze flicking to Ressler again. _Is a demonstration out of the question?_

Before Ressler could do more than start to protest, Reddington said cheerfully, _Since I can't think of any reason you would need the particulars, yes. Absolutely out of the question. Besides, I think both Donald and Lizzie would object to him being shown off like a trained sheepdog._

Liz agreed very quickly, and Ressler ran his hand through his hair and muttered a sarcastic thanks to Reddington for his understanding. He had obviously gone along with this programming back when he joined Liz's organization, but only because he could see no way around it. There was no way he wasn't going to continue to be disturbed by the knowledge that Reddington had made sure of his responses in this kind of scenario. At least he thought it was Reddington who had done it. He really couldn't remember – which didn't help with the whole feeling disturbed about it thing.

Lanneth didn't protest this denial. In return for what had been shared, he described how he was able to hide himself from human eyes. As he listened, Ressler half-hoped this was something only pureblood dragons could do; he didn't like to imagine what Reddington might use this skill to accomplish. And if any of their enemies ever found out how to do it...

After another fifteen minutes or so of discussion, Reddington thanked Lanneth for his time and announced that it was time for the rest of them to leave. _Lizzie and I each have lunch appointments, and it will take some time to get back to DC first._

Lanneth stood up, nodding to Reddington and then Liz. _Of course. Thank you for taking the time to speak with me._

Liz nodded in return and then said, _I'm going to guess that, if we were to come back here later, you wouldn't be here anymore. Am I right?_

The gold dragon smiled. _This is only one of my eyries, as I said, so it's very possible I would not be here if you returned, yes. But I will ask you not to share its location with others, please. I do not wish my presence and interaction with you to be widely known._

 _We don't wish that, either_ , Reddington assured him. _You can rely on our discretion, Lanneth._

 _Because you wish to keep this knowledge for yourselves_ , Lanneth said, sounding amused.

 _Exactly_ , said Reddington. _I'm glad we understand each other._

Lanneth looked toward where Ressler had just gotten stiffly to his feet. _May I rely on your human's discretion, as well? Or would it be wiser simply to keep him from remembering?_

“I'm not going to tell anyone anything,” Ressler said with a sigh. He was getting really tired of being treated like he wasn't able to make decisions or give input for himself.

 _What he said_ , said Reddington. _Now, Lizzie, you and Donald can go first. There's a car waiting nearby if you'd rather not travel under your own power the whole way back._

 _Oh, thank God_ , Liz said in an undertone. _I was not looking forward to two flights of that length in half a day._

“Can't say I was, either,” Ressler remarked, following Liz out of the cavern. Reddington laughed.

Ressler squinted in the sunlight and took a deep breath. He was not going to be sad to leave Lanneth and his eyrie behind. But first, he would have to put up with being carried again, for a little while at least. “Where do you want me to stand, Liz?”

 _A little further out of the cave, and closer to the edge._ He moved to where she had directed. _Yeah, that should be fine._

“Okay.” Doing his best to ignore both Lanneth's and Reddington's attention, Ressler stayed where he was while Liz took off, gained altitude, and then swooped down like she had the first time. It was only the slightest bit easier to adjust to being picked up and carried the second time.

After they had been in the air for a few seconds, Ressler did his best to relax. “Do you know where the car is?” he asked.

 _I know where Dembe is_ , she told him. _Not too far._

“Good.”

She was right – it only took maybe five minutes for them to reach the car where Dembe was waiting. Liz released Ressler in the same fashion as she had before, then almost immediately transformed back to her human shape once she had regained her balance. Ressler happened to have gotten upright before she did, so he held out his hand to her with a wry smile.

“Thanks,” she said, accepting it and getting to her feet with his help. “And, uh, thanks for bearing with me while I figured out the best way to carry you.”

The two of them turned to walk the few yards toward the car. “I keep thinking I've had the weirdest experience of my life,” Ressler said, “and then something else comes along and tops it.”

“Me, too,” said Liz. She greeted Dembe as they arrived. “Red's on his way.”

Dembe nodded. “So how was it – meeting with a pureblood dragon?”

“It was interesting,” Liz said. “And frustrating.”

“Yeah. It's easy to tell where you guys get your talent for not answering direct questions, among other things,” Ressler said. She gave him a mock glare as Dembe grinned.

Seconds later, Liz looked up as Reddington came into view from the direction they had come. Ressler watched the red dragon land and transform – a process he was pretty sure he'd never get used to seeing. But Reddington, of course, just picked himself up and joined the rest of the group. “All right. Are we ready to go?”

They made the trip back to the city in decent time. Liz was eager to discuss what they had learned from Lanneth, and although Reddington kept up his end of the conversation, Ressler got the feeling he wasn't as enthusiastic as Liz was. He did, however, apologize almost totally insincerely to Ressler for “the sheepdog comment,” as well as the unpleasantness of dealing with Lanneth's attitude toward humans. “Clearly our older brother hasn't spent enough time with humans to recognize your value,” he said with a sigh and shake of his head.

“Clearly,” Ressler replied through clenched teeth. He was starting to wish Liz had decided not to take Reddington up on his offer of transportation back after all. There were only so many hours at a time that he could stand the man's company, and he was about at his limit.

“Maybe a sheepdog wasn't the right analogy, anyway,” Reddington continued, as usual seeming blithely oblivious to Ressler's mounting irritation though Ressler knew he wasn't. “What do you think, Donald? A German shepherd? Irish setter, perhaps? Did you ever take one of those quizzes that's supposed to tell you what personality type you are?”

Blessedly, Liz's phone rang at that moment. It was Henry, the dragon who owned the property they had visited this morning. Based on what Ressler overheard, he was just confirming Liz's interest in buying it, and assuring her he would set up a time to discuss it further very soon. When he hung up, she and Reddington had a short discussion about the place, and Red reminded Dembe to drop Ressler and her off at the location where they had left their car.

Liz said her farewells when they got back to the empty lot where Lanneth had shown himself this morning. Ressler sighed in relief once he was out of Reddington's car, and then frowned as he looked at his phone. They were almost going to be late to their lunch appointment, at this rate.

“I would apologize for Red,” Liz said as they got into the vehicle, “but I'm guessing it wouldn't help much, since you know him too well by now.”

Ressler scoffed and shook his head. “It's fine. I'm just glad he's not coming with us to lunch.”

“It's not really fine,” she said. She smiled at him. “But thanks for saying so, anyway.”

~

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! More to come.


End file.
